


A Pack of Petered Parkers

by peppypear



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man (Movies - Raimi), Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies), Spider-Man - All Media Types, The Amazing Spider-Man (Movies - Webb)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, BAMF Peter Parker, BAMF Tony Stark, Comedy, Crack, F/M, Family Feels, Family Fluff, Fluff, Friendship, Gen, Holidays, Iron Dad Spider Son, M/M, Meta, Multiverse, Not Canon Compliant, Peter Parker Needs a Hug, Protective Tony Stark, Thanksgiving, Tony Stark Feels, how many spider-man references can i cram into one fic, turns out the answer is many
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-11-23
Updated: 2020-12-24
Packaged: 2021-02-26 01:54:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 13
Words: 44,364
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21535522
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/peppypear/pseuds/peppypear
Summary: “So, let me know if I have this right.” Tony said, setting down half of his burger. “Your dad, after having three sons, each with a different woman, had the bright idea to name them all Peter?”He tried to imagine three Spider-Men swinging around the city: quipping at supervillains, charging headlong into trouble, being too trusting for their own good - Tony felt his blood pressure begin to climb. “Are they- are they like you?”“If you mean superpowered, then no.” Peter shrugged. “They’re kinda boring; Tobey’s been married for years, and Andy's married to his job. Not exciting enough to get us our own reality show.”--When Peter invites his mentor for Thanksgiving at May’s, Tony learns a Parker family secret. (canon AU set between Hoco and IW)
Relationships: Michelle Jones/Peter Parker, Peter Parker & Tony Stark, Peter Parker/Mary Jane Watson, Peter Parker/Wade Wilson, Steve Rogers/Tony Stark (blink and miss)
Comments: 194
Kudos: 1276





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is an idea I’ve had ever since 2017! I love Spidey and especially Iron Dad-Spiderson dynamics. I thought it’d be fun to combine the other live-action Spideys into one fic because they are ships I like (Spidey/MJ and Spideypool). I hope you like this 2-part oneshot! I’ll post the next chapter some time next week.
> 
> This is set between the happy time between Homecoming and Infinity War, but I'll be completely ignoring canon. I dont care what anyone says, I headcanon that Peter and Tony did a lot of work together during that one year
> 
> UPDATE 2020: looks like this isn't a twoshot anymore lol

Being a superhero was heartbreaking most days. Tony knew all too well, that no matter how hard you tried, sometimes there were things they just couldn't prevent, people they couldn't save.

Thankfully, such days had been few and far between; luck seemed to be on their side as of late. Tony couldn't remember the last time a mission had resulted in zero fatalities and only half a destroyed city block. Not that he could take sole credit; the Iron Man and Spider-Man team was responsible for saving the day this time. 

“I messed up.” Peter’s dejected tone punctured Tony’s satisfied musings like a balloon. 

“Be right with you.” Tony briskly wrapped up his conversation with the Damage Control crew before flying up towards the roof where Peter's signal emanated. 

Tony wanted to kick himself for not noticing something was off. Normally, Spidey would hang around the site after a mission, helping with some of the heavy lifting and chatting to the cleanup crew. The kid’s bounciness was infectious - even the oldest, most gruff construction worker couldn’t help but be charmed.

Peter was sitting over the edge of the parapet, parallel to the ground. He was hunched over, arms wrapped around his knees. 

To Tony’s relief, FRIDAY's scans revealed no major injuries. The tense set in the teen’s posture told him there was something more on his mind.

Tony killed the repulsors and disengaged the suit, stepping out to join Peter on the roof. 

Peter didn't look up from where his gaze was fixed on the street. “I messed everything up.”

Tony tilted his head to one side. “Remind me again which part of: stopping a gang of criminals armed with illegal Chitauri weapons from levelling a city block, with minimal property damage and, most importantly, _nobody dead_ , is anything but a resounding success?”

“The part where one of the bad guys got away.” Peter took a deep breath, as if steeling himself to be yelled at. “I was chasing down the last one- The one called Shocker, I think…”

“The one with the name he really ought to rethink, yeah.” Tony remarked.

“Almost had him, but then I felt this- this weird kind of buzz, like I knew something was wrong? I dunno.” Peter’s shoulders twitched up in a shrug. “I turned and saw this guy pinned under a pile of rubble. A huge chunk of roof was about to fall on him, and I just-” Peter exhaled heavily. “I couldn’t just let it happen. I held the roof off him until emergency services came, but I couldn't go after Shocker… he got away.”

“Is that it? We'll just get him next time-”

Peter's voice got tight. “No, you don't get it. It's my fault.” 

_My fault._

The way he said it hit Tony with a wave of deja vu.

My fault. It was a familiar refrain, one Tony had flung at himself many a late night when the weight of his mistakes got too much to bear. To hear the same toxic guilt come out of Peter's mouth… Tony knew where that path led.

Tony leaned over the edge of the parapet towards where Peter was stuck on the wall. “As someone who's caused his fair share of trainwrecks in life, trust me when I say this-” he gestured to the site below them. “This is not the end of the world.”

“I know, I know. But I should've done more.” A note of desperation crept into Peter's voice. “What if this bad guy goes and does something worse because we- because _I_ let him get away?”

“Not if we stop him. And we will.” Tony assured him. He had no interest in playing the blame game, only finding solutions. “FRIDAY, can you-?”

“Already on it, boss. KAREN has already sent me the video data captured during the fight. I’ve cross-referenced the information and set up alerts for the next sighting of the fugitive. You and Spider-Man will be the first to be notified when he reappears.”

“See? It's not so bad. Shit happens, but we deal with it. Live to fight another day.” Tony said.

“Yeah, but if I was better, things wouldn't have turned out like this. Wish it could've been different.” Peter said in a small voice.

They both fell quiet, watching as paramedics wheeled the man- the man Peter had rescued- into an ambulance. Amidst the rubble, Tony could make out the section of roof Peter had held off the guy; the concrete slab was easily the size of a truck. If Peter hadn't intervened, what was left of that guy would be sloshing around in a black bag.

“I’m sure what you did makes a difference to him.” Tony observed. 

“Well, I couldn't just leave him to- I didn't know what else to do.” Peter mumbled.

Tony put a hand on the teen’s shoulder and squeezed, voice turning kinder. “Come on, kid, you made a tough call, but it was the right one. We'll do better next time.”

“I guess.” Peter said hesitantly.

“How about we get some cheeseburgers and head to the lab?” Tony suggested. The combination of science and tasty foods was a sure-fire way to cheer him up.

Sure enough, The eye shutters widened and mask squidged up in a way that Tony could tell was a smile. 

Smiling himself, Tony continued. “I’ve been working on some top secret stuff that’s gonna blow your mind.”

With a swift leap, Peter neatly landed next to Tony on the roof. “You mean the nanotech armours?” 

“The nanotech- hey! You're not supposed to know about those yet.”

“Maybe I wouldn't if you did a better job of hiding it! You need a stronger password than ‘Warmachineroxxox’, by the way.” Peter responded, seeming to recover some of his usual cheer.

“Wow. Just wow.” Tony said flatly, playing along with a pretense of disgruntlement. “Remind me why I let your sticky fingers near any of your stuff?”

“Because of my winning personality? After all, we-” Peter froze, head tilting to one side as if listening to some invisible message. 

Seconds later, Peter’s phone buzzed. His eyes widened when he saw the caller ID. “Whoa, I really gotta take this. Excuse me...” 

Tuning out the conversation to give Peter some privacy, Tony looked over the city they fought every day to protect. 

With the majority of the Avengers MIA, Rhodey called away for military work, Vision gallivanting off to who-knows-where, New York’s sole line of defence against all supervillain-y threats fell squarely to the Iron Man-Spidey team. 

After the disaster that had been the ferry and Peter’s Coney Island punch-out against Vulture, Tony and Peter had spent the following months undergoing intensive fight training, coordinating their fight tactics until they were perfectly in sync. 

They’d never thought they’d have the chance to merge cutting-edge technology with superhuman spider-reflexes, but the results of that unlikely combination had been rewarding: they'd tracked down the last traces of Toomes' black-market dealings in Chitauri tech faster than Tony had hoped, and now they were so close to _finally_ tying up the last of the loose ends. Even if Peter felt responsible for inadvertently letting one of those loose ends escape, Tony knew without a doubt he’d made the right choice. Heck, Tony personally thought the kid was being way too hard on himself. All they could do was do their best.

Tony smiled, watching Peter chatter away into the phone excitedly - he’d be the first to admit he didn't know how he’d have managed without Spider-Man. 

Iron Man and Spider-Man. Who'd have thought they'd be working together like a perfectly synchronised unit.

Moreover, he liked having the kid around. 

It was difficult to tell what Peter thought of him, though. He wondered if the kid saw him as anything other than a bossy mentor. 

“It's great! The internship is getting more busy- I'm not making it up! I actually work there! You suck, too.” Peter’s entire demeanor had changed becoming less guarded. “Wait, so you're actually gonna be back? Whoa, okay, talk to you later.” 

“Ready to hit the lab?” Tony asked as Peter ended the call.

Peter gave an apologetic grin. “I'd love to, but something literally just came up.”

“No worries, how ‘bout tomorrow?” 

“Uh, not good either.”

“The day after? Friday? Or the weekend?” Tony raised an eyebrow as every query earned a shaken head. 

“Wow, they’re really overworking you at school, huh?” Tony racked his brain, trying to remember if there was another decathlon match coming up. Or a music festival. Game console release. Popular movie franchise. Whatever teenagers liked these days.

“School’s closed.” Peter looked at him weirdly. “For Thanksgiving.”

Tony paused, mouth hanging open like a fool. “Ah. That.”

“Yeeeeah, so…” Peter shifted on his feet a little awkwardly. “May’s gonna need all the help she can get. She's got her hands full getting everything organized because my brothers are _finally_ coming back into town this year…”

Tony looked at him sharply. “Who now?”

“May? I know she seems like Wonder Woman but even she needs help occasionally-”

“No, the other part.”

“My brothers are back in town?”

There was that word again. Tony zeroed in on it. “That. You never mentioned anything about siblings.”

“Didn't I? Pretty sure I did.”

“Pretty sure I’d remember. What's with all the secrecy?”

“I wasn't trying to hide it, I just figured you already knew?” Peter protested. “Doesn’t FRIDAY insta-stalk everyone who joins the Avengers to make sure they aren't evil?”

“Vetting is not _stalking.”_ FRIDAY said, a little huffily.

That part was true, a background check _was_ mandatory for all new Avengers joining the team. But Tony had made it a point to respect Peter’s privacy and _not_ look into his life. The only information Tony had on him were the videos of Spider-Man freely available on the internet and whatever bits of information Peter saw fit to overshare through texts. 

Peter shrugged. “There's really not much to it. I've got two half-brothers. My Dad got around a lot way back when.” 

Tony tried to imagine three Spider-Men swinging around the city - quipping at supervillains, charging headlong into trouble, being too trusting for their own good - Tony felt his blood pressure begin to climb. “Are they- are they like you?”

“If you mean superpowered, then no.” Peter replied. “They’re kinda boring; Tobey’s been married for years, and Andy's married to his job. Not exciting enough to get us our own reality show.” 

“Shame. ‘Palling Around with the Parkers’ does have a ring to it.” Tony said dryly, internally relieved.

Peter rolled his eyes. “Great idea, Mr Stark, why don’t I change my name to Influencer-Man and start selling my selfies, too?” His stomach chose that moment to let out a loud rumble. “Oops.”

“When was the last time you ate?” Tony demanded.

“Uh, I had half a bag of skittles for lunch…”

Tony raised an unimpressed eyebrow.

“And Michelle gave me some of her Doritos?”

A second eyebrow.

“Okay, okay, I'm pretty sure there'll be leftovers in the fridge when I get home.” Peter tilted his head to one side, trying to remember. “At least I think there are leftovers? I could just finish up the rest of those skittles for dinner...”

“Yeah, no, you're getting some real food. No way I'm letting you swing home hungry.” Tony said briskly. Years of rooming with super soldiers, demigods, and gamma-irradiated beasts had familiarized Tony with the requirements of superhuman metabolism, and when they got hungry it meant they needed calories _stat._

God, did the kid not know how to take care of himself? This felt like divine retribution for all the times Pepper, Rhodey, and Steve had lectured Tony about forgetting to eat. Somewhere, Tony knew all three of them were laughing at him.

Well, Tony had learned his lesson and was not going to let Peter make the same mistakes. “I promised you cheeseburgers, and that's what you're going to have.”

The hungry look in Peter’s eyes intensified at the mention of food. “Cheeseburgers…”

“As many as you like.” Tony promised. _Just please, please, eat something._

“Well…” The offer had made Peter pause. “I _guess_ I have some time for a bite. Never turn down free food, right?” He smiled jokingly.

The words gave Tony a pulse of sadness, reminding him once again that they'd come from very different worlds. There were so many lessons he wished Peter hadn't had the misfortune of learning so young. It didn’t seem fair.

Resolving to be a little more observant, Tony prepared to take off, already plotting a course for the nearest burger joint. “Let's get a mountain of cheeseburgers and then you can tell me all about the super Parker brothers.”


	2. Chapter 2

They stopped by a cheeseburger joint, where Tony, true to his word, ordered them what could only be described as a mountain of burgers. 

To avoid stares from randos, they wound up on another rooftop with the stack of burgers between them, watching the buildings glint golden in the late afternoon sun. 

“So, let me know if I have this right.” Tony said, setting down half of his second burger. “Your dad, after having three sons- each with a different woman, mind you- had the bright idea to name all of them Peter?”

“Weird, right?” Peter said nonchalantly as he unwrapped his sixth burger. “Luckily, he remembered to give us different middle names, or that would've been even more confusing.”

“So what’s your middle name?”

“Danger.”

“Nice try. C’mon let’s hear it.”

Peter suddenly became very interested in the trail of melted cheese that had dripped onto his hand. 

Now Tony _had_ to know. “I'm just gonna assume it's something embarrassing.”

“It's not, it's really dumb.”

“FRIDAY, google the most popular baby names of 2001-”

“Geez, okay, fine! I'll tell you.” Peter hunched in on himself slightly, before saying in a mortified whisper. “Peter Thomas Parker.” 

“That's not so bad. Sure beats ‘Edward.’” Tony studied him thoughtfully. “You could be a Tom. Want me to start calling you that?”

“God, no. there are already four Toms in my class.” Peter made a face, and took a fierce chomp of burger as if it had personally offended him. “And… I dunno, it's weird, the name never really felt like _me.”_

“Okay, Pete.” Tony decided to stop making fun of him. “How'd you guys decide who got to keep their name and become _The_ Peter Parker?”

“They let me keep the name because I was the youngest. My brothers go by their middle names. They're both- actually, you know what, it's easier for me to show you.” Holding his burger in his mouth, Peter thumbed through his phone, opened a photo and handed it to Tony. 

The picture had been taken at a restaurant, several years ago by the looks of it. The three Parker brothers had slightly different features, but Tony could see the strong family resemblance in the sunny smiles. 

Ten-year-old Peter was even shorter and skinnier than he currently was, and wearing round-framed glasses that only made him look even younger.

“Nice specs, Harry Potter.” 

“Hey, I didn’t have good eyesight before the spider bit me.” Flushing deeply, Peter took another vengeful bite of his burger before muttering, “I didn’t have good _anything_ before.”

Was _everything_ about this kid designed to make Tony want to protect him? To change the subject, he pointed to the brother to Peter’s left; a lanky young man in his early twenties, with a rakish grin and stylishly mussed brown hair. 

“Hipster.” Tony nodded knowingly.

Peter snorted. “That's Andrew. And FYI, he hates it when people call him a hipster.” 

“I wonder why.”

“He runs an app company in Silicon Valley…”

“Not helping with the hipster thing.”

Peter gazed into the distance, tone wistful. “Everything seems to work out for him: he's got a steady boyfriend, cool job- He sent me some pics of the _ball pit_ in his office.”

Tony rolled his eyes internally, making a mental note to install a ball pit in the lab if that was what it took to keep up with trendy tech firms run by hipster millennials.

Peter hummed thoughtfully. “Well… I guess that’s not all fair. Andy’s had tons of crappy things happen to him. He'd planned to go to ESU, but he couldn't stand to stay here after Gw- uh, I mean, he moved to California for college and stayed there to work.” Something in Peter’s face shuttered, going distant. There was a story hidden there, Tony noted, but he knew it wasn’t his place to pry.

“ _Aaaanyway,_ ” Peter took a bite of cheeseburger to cover his stumble and leaned over to tap his finger against the brother on his other side. “This over here is my big brother, Tobey.”

In contrast to Andrew’s angular good looks, Tobey had a softness and warmth to his features, looking like a more mature, self-assured version of Peter. But while Peter and Andy had brown puppydog eyes, Tobey was only Parker brother whose eyes were a striking blue.

There was also something naggingly familiar about him, but Tony couldn't quite put his finger on it.

“Tobey’s a physics professor at Columbia. But he's always getting called to lecture in colleges and conferences all over the country, so we don’t see him much.” Peter explained.

“Sounds respectable.” Tony flitted through his memories, trying to recall if he'd ever come across a Tobey Parker in any of his research. The name didn't ring a bell, but something about the guy _did..._

“Yeah, he's totally Mr Responsibility.” Peter went on. “Em, his wife, is the _best._ She’s a Broadway actress and she comps tickets for May and I sometimes.” 

“Any more secret relatives you have hidden away?”

“There’s Uncle P.B, who’s like our third cousin or something, but he's kind of a bum so we don't really hear from him much. May says he needs to sort out his life.” Peter took his phone back with a grin. “And that's the torrid history of House Parker. Ta-da!”

 _Why am I always the last to find out anything?_ Tony couldn't help thinking, but his sour thought was immediately followed by a rush of guilt. Of course Peter had a whole facet of his life that didn't revolve around being a superhero and he certainly wasn't obligated to disclose any of it to his boring old mentor.

Still. Tony couldn’t help feeling a bit left out.

When Tony had first met Peter, he’d assumed he had been an only child. Clearly, that had been Tony projecting his own childhood experiences onto the teen. 

Not that Tony would have wanted siblings; Howard’s obsession with finding Captain America was like growing up in the shadow of an invisible big brother he could never quite live up to. And if _that_ was anything like the sibling experience, then Tony was glad to have forgone the whole thing altogether.

Tony folded his arms, gingerly pressing against the still-fading bruises around the hollow space that had once housed his arc reactor. Okay, so maybe he was still feeling a little sore about having secrets kept from him. Because… reasons. 

Anyway.

“You all grow up together?” Tony asked, quashing down the small, selfish voice in him that was sulking at being excluded.

“Kinda. My parents died not too long after I was born, so Ben and May helped link us all up, saying it was important to keep the family together.” Peter explained. “The five of us used to have yearly Thanksgiving reunions, family tradition.”

“Must be nice.” 

“It was. But ever since Andy moved west and Tobey’s job started flying him around all the time, it's become really tough to get us all in the same place at the same time.”

“This year must be pretty special, then.” 

“Yeah, everyone's all making an effort to be in town, because… ” Peter looked down over the edge of the building, swinging his legs against in air. “It's- um, gonna be our first Thanksgiving without Ben.”

Well. Now Tony felt like the biggest piece of shit in the world for having the audacity to be jealous. 

“That's… rough. You miss him a lot.” Tony wanted to say something more, but didn't know what he could that didn't sound completely useless. 

“We get by.” Peter focused intensely on his burger, cleared his throat, and shook himself. “So yeah, that's why we got tons of stuff to prepare.” His brown eyes widened apologetically. “Would it be okay if I help with lab stuff next week instead? I know this really last minute, sorr-” 

“Hey, the lab nor I aren't going anywhere. Science can wait.” Tony squeezed his shoulder. “Go have a great Thanksgiving with your family. You deserve it.”

Peter chewed his lip, as if he’d been waiting for the conversation to reach this point. “I was actually wondering if-” the rest of his sentence trailed off into a mumble.

“If what?”

“...liketajoinsferthunksgung?”

Tony sighed. “Didn't quite copy that.”

“I was wondering, if you'd like to join us for Thanksgiving?” Peter said all in a rush. 

Tony blinked. “Me? I’m not sure I'm your aunt’s favorite person.”

“She’s cool with it. I'd like- we’d all like it if you could join us!”

Tony stared straight ahead, mind still trying to process what he'd been told.

Peter flushed, taking the silence as dismissal but not willing to give up so easily. “I know our apartment is kinda small, and the food isn't what I'd call gourmet- well, Tobey once tried to bake a cake and the fire alarm has never been the same- but Andy’s boyfriend makes these awesome chimichangas with turkey and cranberry sauce-”

“Turkey… chimichangas?” Trying to reboot his brain from the mental bluescreen, Tony latched onto the weirdest words in the sentence.

“I know it sounds gross but they're actually really good! We also play board games and everyone has a lot of fun!” 

“Fun.” Tony parroted stupidly. 

Peter fiddled with a corner of burger wrapper. He didn't seem to want to meet Tony’s eyes anymore. “I thought that this could be like a team building thing.” His voice got smaller and smaller. “Because we were… well, I thought we were...y’know... a team…”

“No, no, that's not what I meant, I-” _Oh shit, oh shit, say something!_ Panicking, Tony fumbled around for a response. “I meant, are you sure you want to invite _me_ to your family Thanksgiving party?”

“...That's literally what I just said?” Peter replied confusedly.

Tony waved his hands helplessly. “Wouldn't you rather spend that time with people you actually care about? Instead of...”

The air caught behind Tony's chest. _Oh._

“ _Waaaait..._ ” Peter stilled, as if the thought had only just occurred to him. “You have Avengers stuff to do! Of course, right, right...That's- that's totally cool! I mean, no it’s not cool that you need to work, but- but- I don't mind that you can’t make it! Just forget I said anything, totally no pressure-” 

Tony put up a hand to stop him. “Can I have a minute to think it through?”

Chastened, Peter picked up another cheeseburger and began to quietly munch on it.

Tony rubbed his arm, considering. 

He hadn’t celebrated Thanksgiving much in recent years. True, the Avengers had thrown a couple Friendsgiving parties in those years they lived in the Tower and then the Complex, but Tony’s experience of those nights had been spent in his workshop until one of his teammates (usually Steve, Tony recalled with a stab) was dispatched with a tray of food to lure him out of engineering land, though more often than not it turned into Tony giving a science lecture and roping the unfortunate food-bearer into testing new gear with him. 

Tony grimaced. How he wished he'd participated more in those parties. But there had been so much work to do and it all seemed so important at the time. 

_I still need to finish those upgrades for War Machine’s armor… and the nanite tech still isn't ready to go..._ Despite half the Avengers being MIA, he'd planned on spending this year pretty much the same way. There was always work that needed doing; Peter was a good lab partner and quick learner.

But since Peter would be busy with family commitments, that effectively halved Tony’s lab team. Tony wasn't much looking forward to the prospect of being holed up the empty Complex alone. 

The empty rooms in the deserted residential wing only reminded him of times he wanted to forget. 

_There’s always Plan B: Bali’s nice this time of year._ But Tony knew it was wishful thinking to assume that he'd feel any less lonely on a beach than he would at home.

So where did that leave him?

 _What the hell._ Trying not to sound too pathetically grateful, Tony nodded. “I'll see you Thursday, kid.” 

Peter’s eyes rounded, caught between excitement and disbelief. “Are you sure? I'm serious, don't feel like you're obligated...” 

“I don't make a habit of going back on my word. And really, I can’t wait to meet the Parker clan.” Tony said honestly. “Let me take care of the food-”

Peter looked horrified. “What? No, no, you don’t need to bring anything, you’re a guest! May won't hear of it.”

“I insist.” Tony said firmly.

“I’m serious, we’re good on food! May always throws together a great meal every every year, Em does this awesome casserole, and Wade’s making his famous chimichangas.” Peter shrugged a little helplessly, clearly not having thought this far ahead. “But, uh… you can bring stuff if you want? Anything, really; it doesn't have to be super fancy. Maybe a cake or something?”

“Dessert, huh? Leave it to me.” Tony nodded, already compiling a mental list of all the best desserts he could think of.

Grinning widely, Peter pumped his fist. “This is gonna be awesome! I can't wait for them to meet you! Andy doesn't believe I know the Avengers - this'll show him!”

“I’m sure he’ll change his tune once he meets me in person- oof!” Tony staggered back slightly as Peter tackled him into a hug so tight that his ribs complained just a little. With a faint chuckle, Tony gave the teen a few pats on the shoulder. “Easy, kid, not all of us have superpowers.”

“Oops, sorry, my bad.” Peter quickly let go.

Another buzz from Peter’s phone interrupted the moment. He took one look at the screen and gave a small yelp. “Okay, I gotta go before May freaks out.” 

“See you at Thanksgiving, Mr Stark!” With a whoop, Peter dove off the roof, shooting a web and swinging off in a graceful arc. “ _Thanks for the cheeseburgeeeersss_!” His voice echoed back.

Tony shook his head with a smile, even though Peter was too far away to hear it. He hoped he hadn't misread the situation. 

The old insecurity flared within him. Tony knew he had never been too good at knowing when to back down from being Too Much, and he fervently hoped that he wasn’t once again strongarming his way into places where he wasn't wanted.

 _That's not true, the kid wouldn’t have offered if he really hated my guts,_ The rational part of him reasoned. Tony let out a long sigh, and started clearing up discarded cheeseburger wrappers; Peter had been responsible for demolishing most of the contents.

It felt nice to be included. Maybe Tony wouldn't be a disaster at this party. It was scary to think that anyone _actually_ wanted him around... 

_Stop that, you sound like a sad, lonely old man._ Tony shook himself. Now that he was a mentor, he felt more compelled to control the number of negative spirals he fell into. He couldn't fall to pieces when there were people looking up to him expecting him to be a shining example of everything he knew he wasn't...

 _Just stop overthinking. Perhaps you might even enjoy yourself._ His internal voice sounded way too much like Pepper and Rhodey mixed into one.

Besides, his curiosity was piqued. One Peter was already a handful. Meeting three of them… well. Hopefully no supervillains would be foolish enough to cause trouble that night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I started writing this when I was halfway through LHK, and since then I've sketched out maybe half of the party scene. Unfortunately, I got a new job since then and so it’s been tougher to find time for writing. I didn’t want to lose this fic to the depths of my gdocs, so I just polished up the pre-party chapters enough that they could work as stand alone oneshots
> 
> I would like to finish up the party chapters at some point, though I can’t guarantee it’ll happen soon. My hope is that you guys enjoyed a glimpse into my Parker bros AU and all the film references I desperately tried to cram in. Here’s some of the backstories I came up with for each of them:
> 
> Tobey (34)  
> -Professor, married to highschool sweetheart MJ (broadway actress)  
> -Blue eyes  
> -Serious but easygoing  
> -Protective of brothers  
> -Once got drunk at a conference and danced in front of all the scientists. Now no one will let him forget it (this is why Tony finds him familiar, he was attending the conference too and videoed the whole thing)  
> -Likes jazz
> 
> Andrew (26)  
> -Tall and lanky, nice hair. The hot one.  
> -Moved away from NY after Gwen passed  
> -App developer for the hottest photo sharing app WebShootr, which he created after being screwed over by his former biz partner Lex Luthor (haha a bit of Social Network thrown in)  
> -Dating Wade. Hot and heavy. Lots of drama  
> -Cocky, Similar to Tony (which is why Peter looks up to him lol)  
> -Indie music fan
> 
> Peter/Tom (16)  
> -Small and cute - as you see in the movies  
> -Superpowered  
> -Classic rock fan  
> -Trying his bestTM
> 
> Hope you liked!


	3. Chapter 3

Thursday night came. 

Having given Happy the weekend off, Tony had flown the armor to Queens and parked it on the roof - y’know, just in case. Sadly, supervillains couldn't be trusted to take time off for the holidays.

Tony stared at the door of the Parkers’ apartment, suddenly feeling completely out of his depth. Not only had he become a bit of a hermit workaholic since Germany, but he hadn’t the slightest idea what non-billionaires and non-powered people did for Thanksgiving. 

His own experiences with the actual holiday had been dinners with Mom and Howard, and those were always a coldly formal affair, the richness of the food doing nothing to melt the chilly silence between him and the old man. 

Conversely, Tony had experienced a few Friendsgivings and Friendsmases with the Avengers, and those varied wildly from one year to the next - Natasha had once organized a video game tournament, another time Sam had talked them all into volunteering at the VA, that time Steve had invited him out for dinner and...

Well, everyone was gone now.

Pushing away _those_ depressing memories, Tony refocused on the present. 

He rang the bell. May opened the door, looking like a small hurricane had hit her. She broke into a grin. “You made it!”

Tony put on his trademark media-winning smile. “May! Looking as gorgeous as ever.”

“Don’t you start.” May stepped back to let him in. She cast a curious look at the packages he was carrying. “You’re early. No alien invasions on the docket today, huh? For a second I was wondering if you were gonna show up with a whole entourage of private jets and limos.”

“Say the word and I'll have the jet brought around in two minutes. We’ll be sipping Shirley Temples on a yacht in Santorini before you know it.” Tony said it flippantly but they both knew he was only half-joking.

“Tony, we talked about this.” May’s light tone had a touch of firmness. “Don’t get me wrong, any other time I’d be the first to break out my bikini for a yacht party, much as it’d terrify Peter. But tonight we’re all about that low-key, free ‘n’ easy, totally chill vibe.” 

“You could never be terrifying.” Tony bantered back, easily conceeding.

Tony had been all for throwing the Parkers the fanciest party that would put every music festival to shame. He’d almost talked a bewildered Peter into going along with it, until May had politely but firmly stepped in to decline the offer. She followed it up with a gentle reminder that it was _their_ pleasure to host Tony so they could share their family traditions with him. 

That was what convinced Tony to back down. He could see May’s point now; although Tony hadn’t consciously been trying to take over the event, it wouldn’t have been the first time he'd gotten so carried away that he’d steamrolled people with his good intentions. 

Because while Tony was more than happy to shower insane amount of money on the people he cared about, he'd needed the reality check; tonight's party wasn't _about him._

“I was chill, as promised. Check it out,” Tony held up a box. “I brought a thing of desserts for everyone. You guys like creme brulee and cronuts? I got this amazing chocolate lava cake, it’s molten.” Just because they were staying in New York didn't mean he couldn't splurge on them: He’d had FRIDAY look up every dessert chef in New York and put together a Michelin-rated assortment of cakes. And not just that; Tony had included a little extra surprise of his own. But that was for later.

“Awesome! Those will go great after the chimichangas!” May led him to the kitchen and showed him where he could store his items. 

“I’ve been on a lot of VIP lists, but being invited to Thanksgiving with the Parkers? Now, that’s a party worth being hyped for.”

“We're hyped right back at you.” May’s smile softened. “You’ve been good to Peter, I can’t thank you enough for that.” 

“Are you kidding? You guys are in my circle now. If you ever needed anything at all, please don’t ever be afraid to tell me.” Tony said honestly.

“I know we can. But this time, we want to share something with you.” May gave him a friendly bump. “So give us a chance to be generous to _you_ , for once.”

“Clearly, you’ve given me no choice.” Tony clutched his chest in mock-despair.

May laughed. “We're gonna start cooking once Peter gets back from a grocery run. Make yourself at home till then.”

After exchanging more of the requisite pleasantries, May excused herself to make some last-minute work calls. Left alone, Tony wandered into the living room. 

A lanky young man wearing a beanie and headphones was on the couch, tapping away furiously at his laptop. He looked like an older, more stylish (if you were the kind of person impressed by hipster-chic), and most obviously a _much taller_ version of Peter.

If Tony remembered right, that was Andy. 

Sensing he was being stared at, Andy glanced up and peeled his headphones off - strains of indie rock blared tinnily from the earpieces. 

There was a flash of genuine surprise in Andy’s eyes, which was immediately replaced by a shield of carefully calculated nonchalance.

“‘Sup, Iron Man. Don’t mind me, I have to finish pushing this build tonight.” Andy gave him a stiffly polite smile before turning back to his laptop like he couldn’t be bothered.

So Andy was one of those Too Cool For School types. That was fine with Tony. Very few people outside the Avengers treated him as a normal person. Constant hero worship could get old, and with every year he felt increasingly uncomfortable with the praise he knew he didn’t deserve. Content to give the guy some space, Tony parked himself on another chair and busied himself on his phone.

“A lot of superheroes turning up these days.” Andy said casually.

Tony looked up. “You have no idea. We're thinking of starting a band.” 

“Hm.” Andy said, and yeah there was that pointed tone in his voice that Tony recognized from a lot of journalists. Particularly those named Everhart.

Tony decided to cut to the chase. “I'm sensing some tension in the room. Why don’t we skip the small talk?”

“I'm a little confused- how does a superhero end up crossing paths with my brother. You guys just _happened_ to meet?”

Tony drummed his fingers on his knee. He didn’t know whether Peter had told his family about his superhero extracurriculars, and he wanted to avoid revealing the wrong thing. 

Best to play it safe. “I’m on the cutting edge of green energy and applied engineering, Peter is a student at a prestigious STEM magnet school that helps connect their students with internships all over the country… It’s not exactly rocket science.” 

Andy didn’t seem convinced. “Why him though?”

“What can I say? Your brother is exceptional. Talent like his deserves to be mentored.” Tony replied. That much was not a lie.

“Is that really all you’re doing?”

Tony frowned. Being interrogated by an overprotective brother wasn’t the worst he’d endured, but that didn’t mean he was going to sit there and be talked down to. “Why don’t you just come out and say what you want to say?” 

Andy’s response was to remain silent. His typing never ceased.

If it was an intimidation tactic, Tony was immune to it, largely by having survived hundreds of uncomfortable board meetings- okay, that wasn’t strictly correct, _Tony_ had been the one making everyone uncomfortable at said meetings. Still, Tony couldn’t help feeling annoyed at how difficult it was to get a read on the guy.

“May’s been through a lot.” Andy said quietly.

Tony blinked, thrown by sudden topic change. “Yes? And?”

“She deserves the best, and…” Andy pressed his lips together. “Whatever you’re playing at, I have ways of watching you.”

“Wait.” Tony stopped him with a raised finger. “You think I’m trying to date your aunt?”

Andy glared at him sullenly. “Aren’t you?”

“No! Of course not! That’s ridic-” Tony blurted, before realising he’d sounded a bit too emphatic. “I mean, not that the idea is completely repulsive, May is amazing and anyone would be lucky to be with her.”

It was Andy’s turn to look shell-shocked. “So you’re just…”

“We’re just friends. Peter’s a brilliant addition to my team, and he’s like a son to me.”

“Oh… oh. Well, this is awkward.” Andy froze, hands over his keys. “I thought you were using Peter to try and make a move on May.”

“A logical conclusion, given my reputation.” Tony said dryly. That certainly explained Andy’s standoffishness. “Which word would you like? I’ve heard them all: playboy, casanova, manslut of the decade…”

Andy had the grace to look sheepish. “Sorry.”

“It’s fine, I’m used to it.” 

“No, really, I tend to put my foot in it a lot.” Andy looked like he wanted to disappear behind his laptop. “Didn’t mean any offense, and I sincerely apologize.”

Tony waved off the apology. “Don’t worry about it, it takes way more than that to offend me. God knows TMZ’s tried for years.”

“Can we try and forget the last ten minutes ever happened?”

“Fine with me.”

Andy turned his laptop around. “Wanna see what I’m working on? I’m curious what you think.” 

—

Andy’s guarded demeanor warmed as he talked about his project. He was clearly passionate about his work and the company he poured all his energy into.

As they talked, Tony slowly gathered more information: Andy was the CEO of a small app company which had developed a photo-sharing app, Webshootr. 

“Hold the phone. You’re the mysteriously reclusive developer who coded Webshootr?” Tony exclaimed, looking at Andy with new respect. 

Webshootr had been the darling of the tech world since it burst onto the scene in 2012 from out of literal nowhere. It had become a huge hit for its impressive set of filters, accessibility, and quirky customer service team.

The fact that the developer was highly secretive only served to boost the app’s popularity, swiftly putting it on the path to becoming _the_ photo-sharing app of the decade. Even the Avengers had a Webshootr account, although FRIDAY was the one running it; she frequently uploaded pictures of their most relatable moments (currently, their most liked photo was Thor in a puppy filter).

It was hard to believe that the young guy on the couch was responsible for a social media revolution. Then again, Tony should have expected it; the entire Parker family seemed to consist of huge surprises in unassuming packages.

Andy tugged his beanie down, like he wasn’t used to being praised. His tough-guy act from earlier was gone, which confirmed Tony’s suspicion that it was all an act. “I’m not hiding on purpose, I just don't like attention.” 

Tony nodded. “Attention is overrated. But aren’t you aware how ironic it is to be a social media tycoon who actively avoids attention?”

“All too well.” Andy wrinkled his nose. “But it’s never been about me, I just like photography and wanted to share it with everyone. The fact that Webshootr even took off was pure luck.”

“Maybe. But you don’t build a successful company on luck alone.”

“True. In my case it was luck and revenge; I created Webshootr as kind of a ‘fuck-you’ to my first business partner.” Andy frowned, and muttered under his breath. “Thanks for nothing, Lex.” 

Tony had an inkling of where this story was going. “Put your trust in the wrong guy?”

Andy sighed and slouched back on the couch like a sack of beans. “It was the typical ‘hey, since we’re great buddies in school, that automatically means we’ll make great business partners! Let’s do it, it’ll be totally awesome.’” 

“Not always the best advice.”

“Hindsight is 20-20. Back then, Lex had a grand vision for a universal social media platform and he needed my nerd powers to help him build it. Things were good the first couple years. After that...” Andy shook his head with a scoff. “I should’ve seen it coming, what with him naming the site _Lexbook_ and all. He’d wanted everything from the very start.”

Tony clicked his tongue sympathetically. This Lex guy gave him strong Obie vibes. 

Andy rubbed his chin. “But I guess it was my fault for being too trusting. I’m a programmer, I didn’t wanna deal with all that scary business stuff. We agreed to give Lex full control of all the deals and negotiations, so that I could focus on coding and managing our team of programmers. I got so wrapped up in my work that I didn’t notice he’d been cutting me out, up until the day he sent security guards to physically throw me out of the building.” 

It was a sad story, but one Tony had heard many times before. The business world was cutthroat. “That’s terrible.”

“Didn’t even get to keep my laptop.” A bitter smile curled Andy’s lips. “I wrote every line of code for that platform, and to this day I don’t get a shred of credit.”

Tony made a private note to have FRIDAY deactivate the Avengers’ Lexbook accounts. “You ever tried to fight it?”

“Can’t. Lex tied everything up in a neat legal bow to ensure I never could. But I didn’t know enough about business at the time, so I couldn’t have done anything anyway.” Andy shook his head. It was clearly a story he’d spent a lot of time mulling over. “This is all in the past, by the way. Don’t mind me, I’m complaining about stuff I can’t change. This ship sailed long ago.”

Tony nodded. “I've been there. You live and learn." 

“Yeah.” Andy smiled a little awkwardly, pondering whether to say more. “Back in 2008, when you changed your entire company’s direction to go into clean energy… I actually found that really inspirational.” 

“I did what I believed was right. That’s the only thing we can all do. The rest will take care of itself. Usually. Hopefully.”

“Gotta stay optimistic.” Andy pulled off his beanie and ran his hand through his hair, which settled into stylishly mussed waves. “Times were rough for a while because I had to rebuild everything from the ground up. Months of couch surfing, ramen noodles, endless godawful meetings… I’d never have gotten through it without my boyfriend.”

“Always helps when somebody has your back.” Tony said pensively.

“Yeah. Honestly, things ended up working out pretty okay. I have more control over Webshootr, and things are starting to take off.” Andy grinned. “And I managed to sneak back into Lex’s office one night and steal his stupid ball pit. I’m pretty proud of myself for that.”

An email notification popped up on Andy’s phone. As he read it, his face turned from excitement to disappointment. “Ugh. The investor I was sucking up to for months decided to back out. I was banking on them to save my ass this quarter, too... looks like I gotta find money someplace else.” Andy huffed. “I hate networking.”

"There’s someone you haven’t asked yet."

“Who?”

“Me.”  
  
Andy looked at him sharply. "What?”

“I want to invest in your company.” 

Andy’s phone fell out of his hand. “You’re kidding.”

“Nuh-uh.” Tony said seriously. “I never joke about this. 

“Sure seems like it, considering you barely even know me," Andy‘s brow furrowed. "You don’t have to do this just because you feel sorry for me..."

“You’re not a charity case, I know good work when I see it." Tony said. “And the fact that you’re Peter’s brother is enough for me to know you’re good people.” 

Besides, Webshootr’s facial recognition algorithm was groundbreaking, and Tony could already think of ten ways to integrate it into the Avengers’ gear. He hoped Andy would be open to working on a project together.

Andy’s eyes widened with interest. “Is this about integrating the facial recognition algorithm in the Avengers’ gear?”

Tony grinned. As expected, the kid was sharp. “Perhaps.”

“Whoa. That’s… whoa.” Andy looked both intrigued and nervous by the prospect. “I’d like to- How would we- Can I- can I think about it?”

"Take all the time you need, we don’t have to do the business thing now. Just know my offer’s open." Tony paused, trying to think if he’d forgotten anything. "Do you have a card?"  
  
With jerky movements, Andy fished out a business card and handed it over: "Parker Industries" read the minimalistic font, with a small red camera logo below the words. 

Tony tapped the side of his glasses to allow it to scan the details. “FRIDAY, send Mr Parker my contact details with the info packet we send everyone in SI’s Young Entrepreneurs program.”

Andy watched him with stunned eyes. “I don’t know if I just sold myself. But thank you, I think?”

“Relax, nobody’s getting bought out. Think about it and we’ll talk another day, after the party.” Tony reached out a hand. “Here's to us working together, Mr Parker.”

Andy accepted the handshake, still appearing dazed by his sudden change in fortune.

A loud thud made both Tony and Andy jump.

“Hey, guys!” Peter popped up from behind the sofa. Several heavy bags of groceries lay by his feet.

Andy grumbled, reaching over to give his brother a noogie. “What are you doing here?”

“Uh. I live here.” Peter dodged easily. “Not all of us can live it up like a west coast influencer.”

“I’d rather be an influencer than short like you.” Andy grumbled. Peter stuck out his tongue in response. 

Andy settling for tossing a couch cushion at his younger brother. “Don’t you know it’s rude to eavesdrop on other peoples’ conversations?”

Peter caught the pillow easily. “I've been standing here the last ten minutes. You guys were too wrapped up in business talk to notice me come in.” 

“What have you got there, Pete?” Tony asked, eyeing the overflowing bags of groceries on the floor. 

“Food for the party. I had to carry like a million potatoes.” Peter fished one out and shoved one into Andy’s face.

“Get that out of my face.” Andy shoved the grimy spud away. “Wait a minute… when did you come in? I didn’t hear the door.”

“I mean- I came in- the other way- y’know, the fire escape.” Peter stammered.

“This room faces the fire escape…” Andy said suspiciously.

Peter twitched and adjusted his shirt nervously. Tony saw the red sleeve of the Spider-Man suit poking out from Peter’s shirtsleeve like a warning flag. If Andy just glanced down, he was going to see it...

Tony coughed loudly and noisily climbed to his feet to draw attention. “May said something about cooking, didn’t she?” 

“Yeah!” Peter exclaimed gratefully, hiding away the last trace of his suit. Relieved, he flopped over the couch’s back, resting his head on Andy’s shoulder. “May asked me to ask you to confirm whether Wade is joining us tonight.” 

“He is, he just had to run off for a last minute for a work thing.” Andy patted Peter on the head as checked his phone. “I hope he doesn't take too long. Expect him to be late... if he shows up at all." 

“Aw man. I hope he isn’t too late to make his turkey chimichangas, those are awesome.” Peter stuffed the grimy potato under Andy’s beanie. “If you’re done with work you have to come help with the food. Influencer or not, still gotta pull your weight in this house.”

“Stop calling me an influencer.” Andy shut his computer and unfolded himself from the couch. As Tony suspected, Andy stood a full head taller than Peter.

“Come on, Mr Stark, that means you too.” Peter gestured him to follow.

Tony watched the brothers’ bickering in amusement as they all headed to the kitchen.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So it looks like I’m continuing this after all! I was hoping to post more by Thanksgiving, but I got sick so that got scrapped, then I hoped to finish up more by Xmas but clearly I didn’t manage that either lol
> 
> I have no set posting schedule for this like I did for Little Heroes. But I'd keep an eye out for updates around holidays.
> 
> Enjoy the ride!


	4. Chapter 4

Ten minutes later, Tony found himself in the Parkers’ tiny kitchen assigned to vegetable-washing duty. The four of them was hard at work doing different tasks:

Peter was mashing freshly boiled potatoes, and doing a poor job of concealing his superstrength, if anyone bothered to look; his mix was rapidly approaching potato smoothie consistency. 

May had filled the biggest pot the Parkers owned with several gallon jugs of apple juice. Every few minutes she'd toss a sprig of spices into the amber liquid and give it a stir. She’d explained it was a cider recipe Ben and her had created when they were younger. Kid-friendly, she’d stressed, since apparently the original recipe contained enough booze to power the International Space station.

To Tony’s surprise, the person having the most difficulty was Andy. The onion he’d been trying to slice for the past ten minutes sat half-cut on the chopping board while he teared up for the twentieth time. 

“How can you run a multi-million dollar company and still not know how to cook?” Peter asked incredulously.

“Can’t be good at everything.” Andy sniffed, trying to wipe his eyes on his sleeve.

“But isn't cooking like a basic life skill?” Peter piped up. “Even Mr Stark knows how to make an omelet!”

“What do you mean, ‘even?’” Tony retorted. “Bold words for someone who almost sunk a fer _rryyy_ -” the horrified look in Peter’s eyes stopped him dead in his tracks. _“-ffffrench_ toast machine.” Nice save, Tony.

May frowned. “Peter destroyed one of your belongings?”

Tony held up his hands. “Company property, technically. And I replaced it in like a minute, no big. Accidents happen where a bunch of peppy young interns are concerned.”

“What were you even doing with a French toast machine?” 

“Using it! F-for French Toast Friday! All the SI interns have it.” Peter improvised wildly. 

May hummed. “Sounds fancy. Do you guys have brunch too?”

“The whole staff does. With the best French Toast ever.” Tony smoothly joined in the chorus of lies. “At least we did until Pete here flung the machine into the Hudson.” 

“Why would you do that?” Andy demanded of his brother.

Peter still wore a shellshocked expression. “I was- trying to scare away a bird.”

“Weirdo.” Andy jammed his knife into his onion. “I cook to survive and that’s good enough for me.” 

“You remember that as you eat your 500th meal of instant ramen.” Peter exclaimed, clearly relieved that the conversation had moved to safer territory.

“Maybe so. But Wade does most of the cooking anyway. So shut up, tiny.” Andy haphazardly sawed off another jagged slice of onion. 

“Stop calling me that!” Peter replied, indignant.

Andy flicked a piece of onion skin at Peter, who deflected it back with his spoon. The piece of onion bounced back and stuck in Andy’s hair.

“Sorry about them. They're always like this.” May said to Tony in an aside. “When they all get together it’s like they revert back to being ten years old.”

“I know the feeling.” Tony smiled, remembering a New Years party in which Nat, Thor, and Sam (who Tony thought would've had better sense) had had a contest to see who could stick the most coasters to the ceiling

_“They've been at it for hours,” Steve said quietly. He was standing right behind Tony’s shoulder so his voice was right in his ear. The feeling made the hair at the back of his neck prickle, but not in a bad way._

_“Would this be a bad time to tell them some of those coasters have nano tech in them?” Tony asked, folding his arms._

_“I think Natasha knows..” Steve replied. They watched with bated breath Clint get zapped by the coaster he tried to peel off the counter._

_“Oh my god.” Tony gasped between laughs. If he leaned back slightly he could feel Steve’s laughter rumbling in his chest._

_It felt nice._

A new voice jolted Tony out of his memories. 

“Don't look now, the party's just about to get started.” Standing in the doorway was a redheaded woman in a simple black dress. 

Tony immediately noticed two things: she was the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen, which was saying a lot considering the number of models he used to date. But there was a _something_ to her that went beyond her pretty face; something about her radiated the type of charisma that made everyone want to pay attention to her. Tony couldn’t help being reminded of Pepper. Was there some kind of club for perfectly-put together redheads with magnetic auras? 

“Em, sweetie.” May went over and gave her a wobbly hug. “Ah, ah, careful, I'm covered in cinnamon.”

“Hey, Em!” Peter called out. “Thank Thor you’re here, Andy’s a disaster.”

“Shut up, potato boy.”

Em turned her beaming smile on Tony. “Hi, I don't think we've met. I'm Mary Jane, but you can call me Em.” 

“The Broadway superstar?” 

Em chuckled. “Superstar is an overestimation.”

Peter waved his spoon. “Don't listen to her, she played Fantine in Les Mis and Tobey cried like a baby.”

“I was the _understudy_ for Fantine _._ I only took the stage when the principal caught pneumonia. I'm just your friendly neighborhood actress-next-door.” 

“Where's Tobey? Didn’t he come with you?” May asked.

“His flight got delayed, so he should be landing in like two, three hours. I thought I’d come early and help out.” Em’s green eyes twinkled as she winked at them.

“Just in time. Any later and Andy would’ve burned down the building.” Peter said.

“Really? Show me the damage.” Em teased as she tied her hair back into a bun. “Peter, don’t overmash those potatoes or they’ll come out all gluey.”

Peter dipped his spoon into the potatoes and lifted it up; the goopy mash clung to the spoon like thick honey before dripping back into the bowl. “Whoops.”

“Please. I can’t take this anymore.” Andy looked up tearily from his onion with a helpless kind of expression. 

“Don’t be a drama queen, that’s my job.” Em smoothly reassigned Andy to mushroom-washing duty.

“More like a family business, if you ask me.” May laughed.

—

With ten hands hard at work, the cooking preparations moved swiftly. 

Before they knew it, an hour had passed and the kitchen was starting to smell festive: Peter’s overmashed potatoes had been salvaged from gluey hell with a healthy dose of butter, cheese, and breadcrumbs; the former potato-boiling pot had been repurposed for green bean casserole, which was cooking on the stove next to May’s pot of cider.

“Has anyone seen the cranberry sauce?” Andy asked, as they cleared away food scraps and packaging to make way for the next round of food prep.

“It should be with the rest of the groceries.”

“Nope.” Andy tossed the bag to his brother. “Check it.”

Peter fished around in the grocery bag, but not finding what he was looking for, he dug around faster and faster, getting more flustered as he did. “Oh shoot, I totally forgot. Is there time for a second grocery dash?”

May glanced at the clock. “It's getting late, most stores will be closing early. We might have to do without.”

Peter bit his lip. “Sorry.”

“It’s okay, I was looking forward to Wade’s special turkey chimichangas, is all. They’re always so good with cranberry sauce.” Andy sighed. “Oh well.”

“Don’t worry, I can have organic cranberries helicoptered in...” Tony’s phone was in his hand. 

“No, Tony.” Everyone said in unison. Sulking, Tony folded his arms.

Em peered into the refrigerator. “We have some grape jelly, do you think Wade could mind substituting that?” 

Andy pondered, and made a face. “I could ask him, but it’s better to have the real thing. You know how Wade gets real fussy about cooking-”

“It’s my mess-up, I’ll rush down the street and grab it. I’ll be back in a flash!” Peter burst out.

“I don’t know if-”

Peter spun around, tearing out of the kitchen without waiting for a reply. “I'm heading out to get it right now!” 

“-hey, get back here, we said it’s fine.” He ignored the confused murmurs coming from the kitchen. 

“Be right baaaack!” Peter yelled over his shoulder before slamming the front door very loudly. He dived out the open window over the alley behind his apartment.

As he plummeted, Peter pulled his mask on and peeled out of his clothes before webbing it to the wall. Within two floors of free-fall he was all suited up, nimbly he catching himself on a webline and swinging away. 

_It’s lucky I still had the Spider-Man suit under my clothes from earlier, no need to waste time doing the old alleyway striptease; I’m not really in the mood to be mistaken for a male escort today. Hoo boy, was_ that _an awkward day._ He wondered if there’d be a way to modify the suit to make costume changes less... inconvenient. 

“Stupid. Shoulda known there was something I forgot,” Peter grumbled to himself as he swung in the direction of the bodega. “Come on, you can remember the freaking periodic table but not one stinking can of cranberry-“

_Danger._

“Whoa!” Peter jerked more out of surprise than pain, almost losing his grip on his web. He knew that familiar prickle in his skull: every sense felt electrified, every stimuli suddenly dialed up to eleven. 

The shuffle of shoes from the pavement below was suddenly as thunderous as the traffic coming from several blocks away. If he strained, he could even make out the faint bubbling of the May’s cider from the apartment, each bubble exploding as loud as a grenade. 

Peter quickly let go of the webline and landed on the side of a building to centre himself from all the distractions.

 _Come on, Peter tingle, what are you trying to tell me this time? Show me where the bad guys are._ Peter squeezed his eyes shut, trying to sift through the flood of sensory information. Every time this weird tingle went off, it had preceded some kind of danger like some kind of magic alarm bell. 

In the sea of his awareness, one voice rose louder than the others, sharp and clear, calling out _danger danger here come here_ -

Peter lifted his head, trying to triangulate the source of the signal. It was faint, but he could feel it coming from somewhere far away… 

There.

It seemed to be coming from Brooklyn. Peter opened his eyes. His mind was made up.

The cranberry sauce would have to wait.

—

“Huh. Peter zoomed out of here like his pants were on fire.” Andy said in a lowered voice to May as he leaned against the counter, looking chastened. “I feel kinda bad for making the sauce seem like such a big deal when really it isn’t. It’s sauce for chrissakes.” 

May shook her head. “You know Peter always feels like he’s got to take care of people. He keeps problems to himself because he thinks it’s bothering people.” She gazed at the ceiling. “Especially last year, when everything happened...” A hint of sadness coloured May’s normally cheerful face and Andy draped a concerned arm over her shoulder. “I was trying to hold everything together but he was so strong all through it. But he expects too much of himself sometimes.”

God, how much had the kid been through? Tony couldn’t help wondering why every new fact he learned about Peter seemed to be more heartwrenching than the next. 

Just when Tony was going to slink off to give them some privacy, Andy turned to him. “Does he ever do that kind of stuff at his SI internship? Offer to cover other peoples’ shifts, help people with their projects, that kind of thing?”

Tony thought of last summer. How he’d brushed off Peter’s concerns about the Vulture, only to learn that Peter had gone off to fight the supervillain in a suit that provided as much protection as a set of pajamas. Tony had almost had his first heart attack in eight years when Happy had called him in a panic to say Spider-Man was fighting Vulture _and there’s explosions everywhere, the jet went down in flames over Coney Island, I’m sorry, boss, I should’ve listened to the kid when he told me something was up with the Vulture guy, there’s arc reactors all over the beach…_

Thought of how Happy had mentioned finding Toomes webbed up amidst the wreckage of his wingpack, and with a field bandage on his broken leg. A bandage made out of webbing.

Tony smiled ruefully. “You have no idea.”

“Sounds like my saintly baby brother. I don’t think Peter ever went through the bratty teen phase.” Andy sounded half admiring and half self-deprecating. “We have Tobey, the golden boy, big brother and every parent’s dream; and Peter, sweet innocent baby who can do no wrong.” He pointed both thumbs at himself. “And then there’s the family screw-up.” 

Em raised an eyebrow. “Oh please. The family screw-up is now the CEO of his own company.”

“You know what I mean! I was always the problem child of the family.” Andy wrinkled his nose. “I know I gave everyone lots of grief during my angsty teens.”

“You weren’t a problem kid.” May ruffled Andy’s hair and tugged the beanie over his eyes. “A bit moody perhaps, but always had a good heart. All three of you did.”

“Ditto.” Chuckling, Em flicked a lock of red hair over her shoulder. “FYI, I have extensive evidence that Tobey is not as put together as you think.”

“Remind me to ask about those some time, I never pass up a chance to embarrass Tobey.” Andy paused, distracted by an alert on his phone. His face fell as he checked the text. “Wade’s work stuff is gonna take a while so he might be late. I wish he wouldn’t - hgh-” His eyes widened, face flushing pink as his phone pinged several times in succession. “Excuse me for a sec, I gotta make a call.” 

Tony caught a glimpse of a naked male chest on Andy’s screen before the middle Parker brother stalked out of the kitchen like a spooked cat.

“A call? Seriously? We all know that’s code for ‘sexting with Wade.’” May said brightly.

Andy’s cheeks flamed. “Is not!” 

“No judgement here, you’re too old for me to tell you what to do. But please don’t make a mess in Peter’s room, he has to live here."

“It was my room first.” 

“At least turn on some music so we don’t get a front row seat to the action.” May yelled as Peter’s bedroom door slammed shut.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As you can tell, I’m taking references from Raimi’s films so that should give you clues as to where I plan to take the plot next :) But hopefully I’ll still be able to surprise you :) 
> 
> Sorry for the long wait, I’ve been real super with work since December. And busy with mod stuff on the Stony server Put On The Suit - we’ve crossed 1000 members and are planning some fun celebratory stuff! If you’re a grown up and want to hang out with other stony fans, you should join us.
> 
> ALSO - Ferret and Flame have started a Stony podcast that discusses our boys and delves into fandom culture. Definitely check it out if you want to hear interesting takes from other writers! Link => PodOnTheSuit  http://www.podonthesuit.com 


	5. Chapter 5

“Peter? We overshot the bodega. By more than ten blocks.” 

Peter ignored Karen. He didn’t know where he was headed, only that he had to follow what his senses told him. Every time this precognitive tingle had gone off, it only meant one thing: trouble was near. 

Trouble he had to find and prevent before it was too late.

“Peter, what are we doing?” Karen prompted after twenty more seconds of silence.

“Nothing, just a little detour.”

“Where to?”

“Why do you need to know?”

“If I understand your goals I can assist you more effectively.” Karen said patiently. “What’s going on?”

Peter bounced off an awning, sending a group of pigeons scattering. “I think something bad happened. I gotta stop it before people get hurt.” 

“I see. Shall I call Mr Stark for backup?” 

“No, don't bother him! I can handle it on my own.”

“It’s not advisable to head into dangerous situations alone.” Karen ran a video clip of one of their practice sessions, showing Spider-Man and Iron Man training in the Avengers gym. Peter remembered that day, they’d been experimenting with aerial maneuvers - it had been a lot of fun.

Peter felt a little stab of guilt, but smooshed it down. He and Mr Stark had worked every mission together over the last year, and working with a senior Avenger had been beyond Peter’s wildest expectations. 

“It’ll be fine, I’ll be there and back in no time.” 

Because sometimes, even Avengers had to go out on their own. Just like how Captain America and the rogue heroes had gone off on their own. Peter had learned about ( _a highly sanitised version,_ Tony had grumbled) the Accords debacle in Civics class, but he knew there had to be more to it. Whatever it was, he knew that Cap and the others had to have had a strong reason for whatever they were doing - they were just… doing what they believed had to be done.

Just like right now, Peter was doing what he had to do.

 _It’s gonna be fine, I’ll check out what’s the trouble and be back before anyone notices I’m gone._ Peter mused as he cut through a construction site. _I gotta show him I can take care of problems on my own, he probably thinks I’m a total disaster because I let Shocker get away..._

Karen’s calm voice broke through his thoughts. “Peter, I think you should know that my emergency protocols will immediately contact Mr Stark should your vitals fall below sub-optimal level.”

“Then I’ll just be super-uber-duper careful.” Peter landed on a flagpole and paused. He turned his head one direction to the next, trying to refocus on where he was going. The tingle had gone fainter a block back… had he made a wrong turn somewhere?

“The way you handled the Vulture?”

“Are you sassing me?!” 

“I’m simply stating the facts. You could have died during the confrontation with Toomes in his car, or at the highschool…”

“You don’t need to remind me…” Peter muttered.

“Or when the warehouse collapsed, or on the plane, or…”

“Yeah, but things turned out okay in the end, so maybe you all don’t need to keep babysitting me!” Peter said with a snap of annoyance, which made Karen fall silent.

He immediately felt bad. “Sorry for snapping, Karen, I need to concentrate right now.”

Perched on a roof, Peter scanned the city around him with every sense he could muster. _Come on tingle, show me where to go next._

Then, like a note chiming in harmony, he felt it. Peter turned his head in the direction of the call and strained his vision to see… 

An orange glow in the distance.

 _Fire. Right on target._ Peter‘s eyes narrowed. “Okay, time to work.” 

—

_And I would do it fooooor yoooooooou… foooor yooooooou…_

“Peter’s kinda taking a while, isn’t he?” Em half-shouted, straining to be heard over the loud indie music blaring from Peter’s bedroom.

“He probably stopped to pet a cat and got distracted or something.” May yelled back. “Speaking of taking a while, Andy’s been ‘on the phone’ close to an hour and I don’t think he and Wade are talking about teacups.”

Tony checked the time. It’d been almost a bit too long since Peter had gone out for the cranberry sauce. The persistent, paranoid, little voice that lived at the back of Tony’s mind was starting to come up with ideas.

_If you need help, if you need help_

_Your hope dangling by a string_

The music swelled in volume as Andy threw open the door and sauntered back towards the group, a too-pleased smirk on his face.

May arched an eyebrow. “How nice of you to join us. How’s Wade?” 

“Fine.” Andy said smugly. “What are we all standing around for?”

Em tapped her wrist. “Peter’s still not back yet. And he’s ignoring his texts.”

“Oh.” Andy’s knowing smirk deepened. “I know exactly what he’s up to.”

“Wanna share it with the class?” May asked.

Andy held a finger to his lips. “Can’t. Brothers honor.”

That only made May groan and Em shake her head. Andy ran his hand through his hair with a laugh. “Believe me, what he’s doing now he’s not gonna want to be staring at a phone. Don’t worry, he’ll be back like the Flash once he does what he needs to do.”

Tony rubbed his chin, only slightly reassured. That Peter had put his trust in his brother was heartening, but still… 

He hoped Peter hadn’t gotten himself into trouble.

—

“Ohhhh, I’m in trouble, I’m in trouble.” Peter chanted as he dodged flaming ceiling tiles.

The burning apartment was hotter than an oven, everywhere a labyrinth of debris and broken furniture. 

He dove sharply to his left, barely avoiding an aluminum support beam crunching into the floor behind him, so close he could feel shrapnel bounce off his suit. The terrified kid in his arms screamed.

“I gotcha, you’re doing great. We’ll get out of here, don’t worry.” Peter said to him breathlessly. It was becoming more of a challenge not to freak out himself. He’d been in and out of the building a dozen times, rescuing people that the firefighters hadn’t got to yet. This kid was the last one, and he’d almost missed him in his hiding spot in a supply closet.

“Peter, I should warn you that my filtration systems will overload soon. You need to get out of here to avoid the effects of smoke inhalation.” 

“Yeah, kinda working on that right now.” Peter scanned his surroundings, searching for any way out. _Come on, there’s gotta be some way out of here…_

“There’s a clear path to a window on the floor above.” 

“Thanks, Karen.” 

He dodged burning rubble and sparks from broken electronics as he climbed through the broken ceiling to the apartment about him. The upper floor was ablaze just as fiercely as the others, but Peter could glimpse a patch of clear sky through a window. 

Peter gulped, feeling the flare of heat on his back. It was now or never.

Turning down to the kid in his arms, he said in his friendliest voice. “Hang on tight.” The kid nodded, despite the fear in his eyes, tightening his grip on the Spidey suit.

Curling himself to shield the kid as best he could, Peter swung towards the window, leaping out feet-first to kick through the half-shattered glass.

The oppressive heat vanished, the choking smoke giving way to clean air. Peter took a deep grateful breath as he lowered the kid to the ground.

“Mommy!” 

The woman embraced her son like she never wanted to let go. She turned her teary eyes on Peter. “Thank you so much. You’ve saved my life.”

“It’s part of my job.” 

“Thank you, Mr Spider-Man.” The boy piped up.

“No worries.” Peter grinned and gave the kid a fist bump. “You can call me Spidey. Mr Spider-Man was my father’s name.” The kid giggled, pillowing his head on his mom’s shoulder and waving as they merged into the crowd of emergency workers.

Breathing a relieved sigh, Peter hopped onto a lamp post to take in the scene. The rest of the people he’d saved were being tended to by paramedics, and the fire department was hard at work beating back the flames. One firefighter gave Peter a thumbs up. Peter grinned and returned the gesture.

“Hey, webhead!” A familiar voice almost made Peter fall off the lamppost. 

_Is that... there’s no way it’s..._

His eyes and senses didn’t lie: on the street below him, dressed in a hoodie and clutching a camera, was MJ.

 _Did she see me rescue that kid?_ Peter was all of a sudden very conscious of his body. He resisted the urge to fidget in a very non-superheroic way. _Be smooth, Pete. Play it cool,_

MJ looked half wary and half curious as she brushed back a curly lock of hair. “Mind coming down here? I wanna talk to you.” She called.

In the blink of an eye, Peter flipped over to hang upside-down from a web line, eye-to-eye with MJ.

She stumbled back with a small yelp.

Peter tried to hide a laugh behind his mask. She was always so unflappable in school, it was kinda funny to see her off guard. 

“What can I do for you this fine evening, citizen?” Emboldened, Peter deepened his voice to sound more commanding and self-assured, doing his best Captain America impression.

MJ rolled her eyes. “Can you ditch the fake voice?” 

“What, you don’t like it?” 

“It’s dumb, you sound like Captain America’s cringey nephew.”

Peter squawked. “Cringey?! That’s not- you’re mean.”

“I call things like I see them.” MJ tossed her hair over her shoulder. 

“Oh…” Peter deflated. “So... you wanted to talk to me?”

“Yeah, I’m doing a photography project.” MJ held up a battered DSLR. “The theme is ‘a city in crisis.’ It’d look really good to have one of you costumed weirdos as my main piece.”

“I’m not a weirdo.” Peter muttered under his breath, a little hurt. Being called cringey and a weirdo in the space of a minute would have that effect on anyone’s psyche.

MJ looked a little flustered. “Wait, that’s not what I meant, I- could you help me out?” 

“Okay, sure, I’ll help out. Where do you want me?”

“I-” MJ’s shoulders twitched up into a shrug. “I want you to- Can you do something superhero-ey?”

“Like what?”

“I don’t know, a spin? Anything!”

Unsure of what to do, Peter remained hanging upside down and flashed a set of bunny ears.

“Perfect. Give me another.”

Peter shifted into a different pose. “I’m trusting you to not make me look ugly, okay?” 

MJ froze and looked at him. She seemed nervous all of a sudden. “That’s impossible.”

“Huh?”

“Nothing. Pose!”

Peter posed, getting more and more confident and showy with each one. MJ snapped a couple pictures before pronouncing herself satisfied. 

“How’d I do?”

MJ held the viewport up to her face to examine the results. “Whoa. These look… really great. Thanks.”

“Can I see?” Peter wiggled around to try and catch a glimpse.

Her hand covered the screen immediately. “No.”

“Why? Why can’t I see them?” Peter whined, realising a split second too late he’d forgotten to act like a mature and stoic superhero. 

“Th-that’s none of your business.” MJ exclaimed, shoving her camera behind her back. 

_Why’s MJ acting all weird?_ Peter pouted behind his mask. Unless his eyes were mistaken, MJ had a hint of a blush.

It made her look really pretty. 

Peter paused, feeling as if he was seeing her for the first time. The glow from the fire turned her skin golden and outlined all the reddish highlights in her wavy hair. Her lips were pinkened by the chilly night air. Her eyes, wide and dark, seemed infinitely soft.

Peter swallowed, feeling lightheaded in a way that had nothing to do with gravity sending blood rushing to his head. “Please?”

Looking just as transfixed as he, MJ licked her lips nervously. “O-okay, maybe just one.”

 _“Help!”_ A shriek shattered the moment.

Panicked mutters arose from the crowd, several people pointing at the burning building. “Oh my god, there’s someone still up there.” 

Peter and MJ’s gazes snapped to the fire, then back to each other.

A steely glint of determination entered MJ’s eyes. “Go.” 

“I’m going.” Without even pausing to think, Peter fired a web and swung back into the flames. He hissed, it was like being yanked out of a pleasant dream.

Peter did a sweep of the building. The smoke and heat was making it difficult to navigate. “Karen, are you picking up anything?”

Static was his only response. Peter felt the first icy tinges of worry. “Karen?”

“-eter... -Peter? Something is interfering with my systems.” Karen’s voice grew fainter and glitchy. “...icking up… ognition is a match… tacting M… ark…”

Peter tightened his jaw. He was on his own. 

_It’s okay. I was Spider-Man before I had this suit and I’m Spider-Man still. Time to eyeball it._

“Hello?” He called through the rooms. “This is Spider-Man, I’m here to rescue you!” 

Purple light flashed through a distant doorway. _Chitauri tech?_

The fires started to change color, from orange to acid green. _Wait, it’s not changing, it’s… green smoke?_

Fear thrilled in his gut, the spider-sense flared, and then everything snapped to black.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Uh oh...
> 
> Hope everyone is taking care of themselves during this time! Remember to social distance, take care of your mental health, and keep in touch with friends <3


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Originally this was supposed to be part of the previous chapter, but it didn't seem to fit so I split them up. So that's why this chapter is slightly shorter than usual.
> 
> Get ready for another cameo!
> 
> Tw: brief mention of a panic attack

Tony was mid-conversation with May when FRIDAY pinged. “Boss, I’m receiving distress pings from KAREN.”

_ Fuck. _

Swiftly excusing himself from the group, Tony strode away towards a quiet corner. He tapped the side of his glasses. “Get me the kid’s location.” 

“Karen is not responding anymore. My diagnostics indicate she went offline just before she could make a report. I’m scanning for Peter’s last known location, but-” 

“Get me something, anything.” Tony gripped the windowsill tightly to stop his hands shaking. How long had it been since Peter had gone out? Why hadn’t he been paying attention?

His brain fired up, calculating Spider-Man’s average swing speed and drawing a mental radius of how far he could have travelled, because of  _ course _ the kid snuck out to patrol instead of getting groceries.

FRIDAY, amazing, clever, beautiful FRIDAY, was already two steps again. “I ran an external search, pulling information from police scanners, CCTV footage, and social media.”

“What do you have?”

“Police scanners mention an apartment complex catching fire in Brooklyn; no casualties. Pictures of Spider-Man rescuing people are appearing on all social media platforms.” FRIDAY flashed a news feed showing a building on fire, photos of Spider-Man rescuing a kid, Spider-Man talking to bystanders. “He’s trending.”

“He couldn’t take two seconds to tell me where he was headed?” Tony cursed under his breath, half furiously proud, and the other half just plain furious. 

“His signal went dark less than a minute after this photo was posted to a social group.” FRIDAY showed him a photo of Spider-Man posing upside down from a lamppost. “I detected a faint energy signature in the location, but I’d need to get closer to identify it.”

_ What happened to you, Pete? _ Tony whirled around and strode towards the door.

“Where are you going?” May asked.

_ And now I gotta lie. Kid, you’re gonna get it for putting me in this position.  _ Tony flashed his trademark media-friendly smile. “Excuse me one sec, I need to borrow your roof for Avengers business. Better cosmic reception.”

“O...kay…” May said confusedly as Tony fast-walked away.

The moment the door shut behind him, Tony broke into a run, taking the roof access stairs two at a time. The Iron Man suit, still standing in the same place he’d parked it, was already powering up in preparation.

“FRIDAY, set a course for Peter’s last known location.” Tony ordered as the suit formed around him and blasted off at top speed. “Dammit kid, what happened to being a team? I swear to Thor, can’t take my eyes off you for  _ one minute…” _

He hoped he wasn’t too late.

—

The first feeling Peter became aware of was how much his head hurt. 

“Did anyone get the plate of that bus?” He groaned. The concrete beneath his cheek pressed painfully against his aching skull. 

He tried to rub his eyes but his hands didn’t seem to work. He shifted - the telltale clink told him they were cuffed behind his back.

_ Hm. That doesn’t seem good. _

All at once, Peter’s memory caught up with him. The fire. MJ. Getting knocked out by weird green gas. 

His eyes flew open and for half a second he almost threw up in terror. The warehouse he was in looked just like the one where Toomes had brought down tonnes of concrete and machinery on him.

_ Can’t move can’t breathe nobody will ever find you…  _ Peter gritted his teeth so hard his jaw ached. The memory had haunted his nightmares for weeks after the incident, and even though they’d lessened in the months since, there were still nights he woke shaking from dreams of being buried alive.

_ Come on, Peter, come on, Spider-Man. _

Blinking furiously, he squeezed one fist, then the other, focusing on the rhythm and letting it ground him.

_ You’re okay, Pete. You’re here now, you got this. _

That sliver of determination was all Peter needed to bring him back to himself. He sat up, easily snapping the c uffs on his wrists like they were made of tissue paper.

“What the- You were supposed to be knocked out for half a day, you mutant freak!” From the shadows, Shocker leaped off his seat on a crate with a yell. 

“Me? First of all, the fact that you knocked me out and tied me up and took me to a secondary place is, wow, creepy. Second of all, ‘mutant freak’? You know words can hurt.” Peter shot back.

Shocker drew a weapon: a huge honking alien gun - a mass of sharp edges and glowing gems - and had it aimed directly at Peter.  “Shut up and don’t move. There’s a reward for anyone who brings in an Avenger.”

Saving that scrap of information to pass on later, Peter cupped his face in exaggerated awe. “Whoa… how much? Asking for a friend, those bills don’t pay themselves.”

“I get more for bringing you in alive. Less if you’re dead.” The man flicked the safety off and the gems on the barrel began to glow. “But not by much.”

Peter circled slowly, keeping a close eye on the weapon.  _ I guess that’s the last of the stolen Chitauri tech. I didn’t know it came with signal jamming capabilities too. Nothing Mr Stark and I haven’t dealt with before.  _

He raised his voice once again mockingly. “I don’t recognize that model. Is there a Supervillain Prime site where you guys get all the blackmarket alien weapons?” 

“Stop talking!” Shocker clicked something and a beam of what looked solidified blue light materialized from the end. 

“ Whoa, a real lightsaber!” Peter exclaimed. That was all the time he had to be impressed, because Shocker charged at him with a yell. 

Peter strafed hard left as the light blade sliced past him, tearing instead through the copper pipe as easily as warm butter. A burnt smell hit the air with a sour tang.

_ Yikes. Gotta watch out for that.  _ Peter pushed back the chill of fear with more retorts. 

“Shouldn’t it be red? Since Sith are the bad guys and all.”

Dodge. Slice. 

“I’m gonna be real with you; you’re  wasting your time being a bad guy. You should go into the cosplay business. I know a bunch of geeks who’d be so psyched-”

Leap. Chop.

Peter leapt up to stick to the ceiling. “Seeing as we both seem to be Star Wars fans, I gotta ask: which trilogy do you think ruined the franchise more? The prequels or sequels?”

“Shut up!” Shocker stabbed the blade upwards like he was an angry neighbor taking out his frustration on the noisy person who lived upstairs.

“Yeah, touchy subject, I know.” Peter hopped out of the way of the jabs like a jumping spider. He flipped over to land behind Shocker, between the man and a stack of machinery.

“Hi, I’m still here.” He tapped Shocker on the shoulder. The man screamed with frustration and fear, firing his gun wildly.

The shot went wide - missing Peter - but blasting the tower of rusted shipping containers and old AC units with a  _ crack. _

The metal shuddered, and then a thunderous creaking filled the air. 

Peter’s blood turned to ice at the sound. It was like a switch had been flipped; all of a sudden he was back in that warehouse with Toomes. 

_ No… not that again…  _

He could feel the unbearable pressure grinding his ribs into the ground till they were an inch from splintering, how he’d screamed and screamed what little air he had left  _ help please help me can't move can't breathe can't move can't breathe can't move can't breathe no one’s coming never find me can’t move can’t breathe _

Peter’s feet were frozen in place, as the litany shrieked in his head. All he could do was watch helplessly as the mountain of metal broke away from their attachments to fall towards him, all as if in slow motion.

_ MOVE _ screamed the warning in his head. But Peter’s whole face felt numb, like he was in a dream.  The unit grew bigger and bigger in his vision, seeming more and more unreal.

At the very last second, spider-sense took over, flinging him out of the way. Metal crunched deep into the ground where he once stood.

Peter blinked dazedly at the wreckage before him and rolled over…  to find himself face-to-face with Shocker’s alien light-blade.

The man viciously slashed at his head. 

Peter, still frazzled from his near-death experience, reacted half a second too slow and his arm instinctively shot up to shield his face.

For a second he felt nothing. 

Then pain lit up his forearm like a flame to kerosene.

“Fuck!” Peter crumpled to his ground with a scream. This was nothing like the dull ache of a villain landing a lucky punch. This pain took his breath away with acid-sharpness, chasing out every thought from his head. 

_ Get up get up danger he’s coming- _

The warning in his head was beating like a drum, pulsing in time to Shocker’s steps, as the man strode heavily towards the fallen hero.

Peter tried to pull himself to his feet, but every muscle seemed paralysed, every movement sending fresh sparks of pain through his arm. All he could do was scrabble weakly backwards on three limbs as Shocker advanced. The alien gun was once again starting to glow in a very foreboding way.

“Not so tough now, are you? Little shit.” Shocker’s sneer sounded echoey and far away. 

Peter felt like he was outside of himself as he stared down the barrel of the gun. Was this really how he was going to go?

He wondered if this was how Ben felt. 

Shocker’s grin looked ghastly in the backlit glow of the charging weapon. “Say goodbye, punk.”

At the last second, Peter saw a red figure shoot overhead.

A whoosh. The crunch of metal embedding deep into concrete. A scream.

Peter blinked. One second Shocker was standing over him with a weapon, the next second Shocker was standing against the far wall, screaming like he was being murdered. 

_ What the-? _ Peter realised Shocker wasn’t standing there for fun. The man was pinned to the wall by a sword through the shoulder.

Spinning around, Peter noticed a towering figure silhouetted in the dim light. Whether it was friend or foe, he had no clue.

Every step the figure took brought more into focus. 

Red and black costume. White eyes. Tall. Bulky. Twin blades strapped to the back. The scent of old blood and stale Mexican food.

The figure took a mincing step out of the shadows and daintily flashed a V-sign. “Ready or not, it’s time for my cameo!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Guess who :)


	7. Chapter 7

The newcomer was clad head-to-toe in red spandex the colour of old blood. At least ten guns were jammed into his holster, and he was carrying twin swords on his back like a samurai wannabe. The whole getup was outlandish, and that was saying a lot considering Peter lived in a world that was already proven to have aliens, sentient robots, gods(?), and flying vulture men. 

Peter absently wondered if he’d fallen into an alternate universe where everything was even more chaotic than his world already was. 

Red Guy waggled his fingers at Peter. “Sup, buttercup! Don’t mind me, I’m just here to pick up a package.” 

“You psycho! You stabbed me!” Shocker yelled, holding himself stiffly to avoid jostling the blade through his shoulder.

“Shh, shh. Sit tight for a bit, daddy’s working.” Red Guy swaggered over to pick up the fallen Chitauri gun.

“Oooh, shiny!” Red Guy turned the weapon over in his hands, examining it with something approaching reverence. “Different features from the last ten I picked up: cloaking device, signal jamming, fancy artillery… looks like someone added a custom slot for knockout gas- that seems like that’d be used for some pretty sus purposes. Oh, baby, what have they done to you? Shh, shh.” He cradled it to his chest, tenderly stroking a leather-gloved hand down the barrel. “Don’t worry, I’ll treat you right; turn the lights down low, get out a bottle of motor oil…”. 

“Who are-?” Peter croaked, finally finding his voice. “Are you- are you with the Avengers?” He sure hoped not.

Red Guy made a sound between a laugh and a raspberry. “Those goody two shoes? No way! I’m a lone wolf mercenary.” At Peter’s astonished silence, he glanced up from the gun. “Oh, come on, don’t tell me you don’t know what those are! Ever watch a movie?” 

Peter could only blink in bewilderment.

Red Guy put his hands on his hips, sassily jutting one out. “Gun for hire. Bounty hunter. Whatever you want to call it.” 

“Bounty hunters are real?” 

“Yeah, duh! I’m like Boba Fett, only more sexy and you’ll never catch me falling to my death into desert pussy, because unlike that fool, I am a _pro-fesh-un-al.”_ With every word, Red Guy twirled a finger with every word for emphasis. “If we take that analogy further, that’d make the Avengers the Jedi council: boring, full of pointless rules, and dripping with sexual tension, especially between _those_ two members, amirite?” 

“What the hell?” Peter whispered. 

Something was weird. He didn’t trust Red Guy one bit, but despite the fact that the man was bristling with weapons, Peter’s Spider-sense didn't even make a blip. So... he didn’t seem to be dangerous.

 _Right now, at least._ Peter watched warily. There was something familiar about Red Guy’s voice, though he couldn’t pinpoint what.

“Nnnnghh…” Shocker moved one trembling hand towards the blade embedded in his shoulder to try and pry it out.

“Naughty hands!” Red Guy casually slapped Shocker’s hand away.

“You- you loony! You stabbed me with a sword!” Shocker screamed.

“And you share a name with sex act. See, I can state the obvious as well.” Red Guy flicked the sword with a finger, sending it juddering like a cartoon character. “Does that give you an excuse to be rude? How’d you like it if I- Excuse me, can you stop screaming? It’s rude how you keep interrupting me while I’m talking.”

Shocker screamed as the blade mashed around in his shoulder, the pain the only thing he could register. 

“Stop it!” Peter yelled. The display of casual cruelty made him feel sick. He always pulled his punches when taking down criminals, which was no easy feat when he had the power to easily flatten a bus.

“What? This?” Red Guy flicked the sword again, ignoring Shocker’s shrieks of pain.

“I said stop it!” Peter demanded. “Why do you have to be cruel? He’s not hurting me or you anymore.”

“Yes, please stop it.” Shocker whimpered. “I promise I’ll do what you want.”

Red Guy grabbed Shocker’s face by the cheeks, and gave it an impatient shake. “What I _want_ is for you to pipe down over there. What did I just say about interrupting? I’m having a sparkling conversation with shortstack over here. Now, as I was saying...” Red Guy rounded on Peter, arms crossed exasperatedly. “Contrary to what popular media would have you believe, my little baby unicorn, mercenaries aren’t generally known for their hearts of gold.”

“He’s a criminal, there are ways to handle this. The Avengers will take care of him.” Peter protested.

“You mean lock him up in a floating donut in the middle of the ocean?” Red Guy pouted. “No thanks. Justice don’t pay my bills. I’ve been on Shocker’s tail for a while, and the client wasn’t particularly picky if he was brought in dead or alive.” 

Shocker keened in fear. “Please don’t kill me.” 

“This is the _third_ time you have inte _rrupted_ my conversation.” Red Guy’s mask stretched into a pout. “Some people never learn. I’m gonna un-alive you, cupcake.” He pulled out his katana from Shocker’s shoulder, and the man sagged to the ground with a groan. Without so much as a shrug, Red Guy angled both katanas over Shocker’s neck like a ginormous pair of scissors. 

“No!” Peter shot a web, yanking the swords out of Red Guy’s grip. 

“What in the name of Hulk’s saggy green- hey!” Red Guy yelped as his katanas vanished into thin air. He glared at the ceiling, where both swords had been securely webbed.

“Bea! Arthur!” Red Guy gasped. “How dare!” 

Peter clambered to his feet, webshooter raised. “I’m not gonna let you kill him.”

Red Guy sighed like Peter was the most annoying person on earth. “Too bad, I don’t take orders from twinks in spandex. Unless my boyfriend and I are having roleplay night.”

“We can't take the law into our own hands! There are people for that.” Peter circled cautiously, trying to put himself between Red Guy and Shocker.

“You’re starting to remind me of the annoying guy over in Hell’s Kitchen.” Red Guy grumbled. “Both of you have the same depressingly naive view of the justice system. Same questionable taste in red costumes, too.”

Peter snorted. Now that he was closer, he could make out the wears, tears, and dubious stains on Red Guy’s uniform - it had definitely seen better days. “Speak for yourself.”

“I always do.” Without missing a beat, Red Guy whipped out a gun and had it aimed point-blank at Shocker’s skull.

Peter webbed the gun neatly out of his hand.

“Oh, come on! “ Red Guy complained, glaring at the gun which was now stuck to the ceiling next to his katanas. “Those are expensive!”

“You can make fun all you want, but that doesn’t change the fact that killing people for being annoying isn’t- argh!” Peter staggered back. The action had sent a fresh wave of pain down his arm.

 _No, can’t focus on that now. Stupid, useless pain._ Things were starting to go blurry around Peter, the dim lighting starting to seem overbright to his tired senses. He hoped he wasn’t about to pass out. 

Red Guy’s voice had taken on an echoey quality. “...do you know how many guns I have? I can literally go all night.”

Peter gritted his teeth, blinking furiously against the dazzling cloud of white that had started to ring the edges of his vision.

“No comeback? Pfft, boring conversation anyway.” Through the haze, Peter could see Red Guy already had another gun in hand from his bottomless supply. The barrel was aimed directly at Shocker, and Peter could see the utter fear and helplessness in the fallen villain’s eyes.

All he could see was Ben in the same position. And Peter was just as helpless to stop what was happening now as he was back then.

_No._

“Don’t kill him! Please!” Peter gasped out, hating how his voice cracked on the last word.

His plea worked in a way logic hadn’t, because miraculously, Red Guy stopped. Turned. Stared at Peter. The white eye holes blinked. “You’re… bleeding.”

Peter looked down and his heart jolted. His arm was a mess of shredded fabric and blood, torn edges of the suit had gotten uncomfortably stuck to the wound. Blood had soaked his entire sleeve up to the shoulder, letting the cold air in to nip at his skin. He didn’t want to imagine what his arm looked like under the suit.

Pain throbbed down his arm in a steady, stinging rhythm, accompanied by the gentle dripping of blood onto the concrete. Peter gritted his teeth against it, wishing he’d taken Karen’s advice and called for backup sooner. 

Abruptly he felt cold and tired and hungry and _just wanted to go home._

Peter couldn’t help it; he let out a small sob.

Red Guy’s white eyes widened. “You okay, Spinarak? How... _old_ are you?”

“That’s none of your business!” Peter yelled back. He desperately hoped he wasn’t going to burst into tears. “And you shouldn't go around killing people. He can't even fight back.”

Red Guy paused, tilting his head to one side like he was having an internal debate. “A job’s a job. But this kid is bleeding out… yeah, it’s not like we need the money, but it’s what we _do…_ Think, DP, think, WWBBD… yup. Oh yeah… oh yeah, he definitely would… I love when he does that! Yesss, and he’d be so proud of us for doing the Right Thing, just imagine the reward sex! He might even let us do That Thing!” Abandoning Shocker on the floor, Red Guy skipped over to Peter. “Okay! I’ve decided to help you!”

“Get lost!” Peter backed away. His vision was starting to churn. _Don’t pass out, don't pass out, don't pass out._

“Don’t be an idiot, you’re leaking faster than spoilers for the latest superhero movie!” Red Guy’s voice had a note of concern in it. “Let me help you!”

Peter’s back hit the wall, knocking some of the air out of him. Great. There was no way to get out of this shit hole _and_ stop Red Guy from murdering Shocker unless… unless.

“I’m not gonna let you help me! Unless…” Peter stood up taller as a stupidly brilliant (or perhaps brilliantly stupid) idea hit him. “Unless you promise not to kill Shocker.” 

“Whaaaaaaaat?!” Red Guy whined. “But killing is fun!”

Peter squared his jaw. “No buts.” 

“Ugh, _boring.”_ Red Guy scratched his head with the barrel of his gun, furiously arguing to himself again. “Is he serious? Why are you letting yourself get bossed around by some pipsqueak? I’m not a goddamn babysitter.”

Behind him, Shocker feebly tried to wiggle away; Red Guy kicked the man in the nuts and he immediately went limp.

“Come on, you can’t leave this baby all on his own! Why? Don’t you take that tone with me- Yeah I know, the bounty is the same whether I bring Shocker in dead or alive, but it’s no fun if I leave him breathing- Ooh, good point! Yes, yes, definitely worth the Reward Sex...” 

Evidently satisfied with his internal argument, Red Guy clapped his hands excitedly. “We have a deal!”

“We do?” 

“Yup-a-roni. I promise not to kill the three-fingered wonder, and in exchange I will help you out.” 

“Really wish you hadn’t call him that. But… ok.” Peter nodded. “Deal.”

“Okey-dokey! First things first.” With that, he clocked Shocker soundly on the head, knocking the man out. “Second things second. Helping time!”

“W-what? Hey!” Before Peter knew what was happening, Red Guy singlehandedly picked him up under the armpits like he didn't weigh a thing. “Put me down!”

“Don't worry, I have extensive experience in maimings, dismemberment, and disembowelment, broken bones...” Red Guy sounded way too cheerful for the things he was talking about. 

“In receiving it or causing it?” Peter asked sourly.

“Both!” Red Guy said sunnily, sitting Peter down on a crate. “Therefore I know exactly how to fix the damage. Let's see your arm- oof! Someone got a big ouchy.” 

“What’s wrong with you?” Peter growled, though he’d sooner eat a frog than admit that sitting down did help with the dizziness. 

“More things that I can count!” 

“Oh. That’s reassuring. Exactly what I needed to hear.”

“...Hold the phone.” Red Guy looked at Peter with a sudden sharpness. “Who are you?”

“Who am I?” Peter retorted. “Are you sure you wanna know?”

The white eyes narrowed. “Have we met before?” 

“Pretty sure I’d remember if I’d run into a weirdass ninja wannabe.” 

Red Guy’s brow furrowed “Your voice. It sounds… kinda familiar…”

Deeply regretting not installing a voice changer earlier, Peter panicked and put on the first fake accent he could think of. “Wot’s that, mate? Pre’ey shore we’ve nevah bin acquaint’ed.”

Red Guy threw his head back in a guffaw. “Wow. That was the worst British accent I’ve ever heard. They teach you that at Hogwarts?” 

“Wotcha talking ‘bout? I’ve always talked like this!” Peter jumped as a bloodsoaked corner of his costume was peeled back from the wound. “Ow!”

“Hold still, Oliver Twist. Lemme have a look at this…”

Peter dropped the pretense, seeing his ploy had worked. Red Guy seemed more distracted by his injury than trying to identify him.

“What’s a little sprout like you doing here by yourself, anyway? Shouldn’t you be in daycare?” 

“Shouldn’t you be in a nursing home?” Peter snapped. 

“Aww, you’re quipping. Adorable.” Red Guy cooed. 

“Stop patronizing me!” This was just great. Not only Mr Stark, but weirdo mercenaries were treating him like a kid. 

“For realsies though, do your parents know you’re hanging out in a super bad area? Give me their numbers and I’ll call them.”

“They're dead.” Peter shot back, hoping it would make him shut up.

“Oh…. oh, that's rough.” Red Guy sobered. He clasped his hands melodramatically and somehow the white eyes began to water even though they were part of the costume. “You poor little thing!” 

Peter had had about enough. “I'm Spider-Man, emphasis on the _man_ part. I’m not some dumbass kid you can talk down to.”

“Well, Mr Man, the only thing you're putting emphasis on right now is bleeding out like a punctured beanbag unless we patch that scratch.” Red Guy pulled out a first aid box from the same invisible space that he seemed to store his unrealistic number of guns. “Luckily, Field Medic Deadpool always comes prepared for every scenario.”

Peter scoffed. “What kind of a name is Deadpool?”

“What kind of a name is Spider-Man?”

“An Avenger’s!”

“Ooooh~” Deadpool cupped his chin and Peter could swear he saw hearts appear in the masked eyes. “I know those guys! Big fan. Do you know Black Widow? I’ve always wanted to meet her, I feel like we were married in another life...”

Peter watched dubiously as the mercenary started digging around in the medkit. He was starting to regret accepting Deadpool’s offer of help. “Do you even know what you’re doing?”

“Au contraire, you would not believe the number of times I’ve been chopped up like sushi and put back together. Trust me, I’m very good at this.” 

And despite Deadpool’s endless stream of inane chatter, he seemed to know what he was doing as he expertly bandaged up Peter’s arm. 

Peter didn’t know why he was sitting here allowing this. By all accounts this mercenary who took such glee in killing should be setting off every one of Peter’s warning bells. But the tingle in Peter’s mind that had screamed when Shocker was around didn't make a peep around Deadpool. 

Weird. 

“There we go.” Deadpool sat back on his haunches. “One field bandage… dun-dun-dun DONE!”

Peter wiggled his fingers. They all still seemed to be working, so that was a plus.

Deadpool stopped, rubbing a finger over his masked chin. “Needs one more thing… Aha!” He leaned over and slapped something atop the field bandage.

A bright pink Hello Kitty band-aid.

Peter stared at it.

“You’re right. You deserve a couple more for being such a brave lil’ buddy.” Deadpool hummed as he stuck on another ten bandaids. And then another ten more. 

“There we go!” Deadpool clapped his hands. “Whaddaya think?”

Peter dumbly lifted his arm, which by now resembled candy-coloured cocoon. “Like the Winter Soldier dismembered Twilight Sparkle.”

“Exactly what I was going for!” Deadpool dusted off his hands and nodded in satisfaction. “Not my best work, but it should hold until we get you stitched up. Now if you’ll just follow me-”

“I’m not following you anywhere. I gotta get back to- to Avengers HQ.” 

“Oh, ok. Show me the way and I can drop you off.”

 _Shit._ Peter fumbled around for an excuse. “No. It’s… in a secret location.” He had to get out of here and back to the party before anyone noticed. He didn’t want to think what would happen if Mr Stark caught on and went out looking for him.

Peter made to stand up, but the world flashed around him again. His feet felt wobbly.

“You okay?” Deadpool’s hand fell on his shoulder. “Maybe you should sit down for a minute.”

“Get lost!” Peter growled as the mercenary pushed him back to sit down again.

“No can do. I made a promise and I’m gonna look out for you till help arrives.” Red Guy flopped next to him. “So what kind of movies do you like?”

“You’re kinda creeping me out.” Peter edged away from the hulking mercenary.

“My bad, shall I stop? I'm trying to work on recognizing boundaries. My boyfriend sometimes says I'm too-”

“Can you stop talking?” Peter wondered if he'd lost more blood than he'd thought and was hallucinating.

“Never! Once this group of mobsters tried to shut me up by shoving a huge-”

Peter’s head shot up as he picked up a familiar sound piercing through the night air. He’d recognize the distinctive rumble of repulsor jets anywhere. As if things couldn’t get any worse.

_Busted._

Iron Man landed in front of them with a heavy clang. Both repulsors aimed solidly at the red mercenary. Everything about him brooked no nonsense at all.

“Step away from him, Deadpool.” 

Deadpool put his hands up. “I was following the superhero big brother code! Gotta make sure my fellow supercompadres are okay!”

Iron Man’s repulsor began to charge up with a threatening rumble. “And now I'm telling you to split. I'll take it from here.” 

“Your dad’s here to pick you up from school, so that’s my cue to leave.” Deadpool turned to Peter and patted him on the head. “Take care, you. Streets can be a dangerous place for little spiders.”

Peter growled and jabbed an elbow. “Stop calling me that!”

Iron Man interrupted him. “Spider-Man, stand down.”

Deadpool spun in his heel to face Iron Man. “Bee-tee-dubs, I have something to tell you, man to man. Superhero to superhero. Sex icon to sex icon.”

“You’re nowhere in my league.” Iron Man said flatly.

“Pfft, yeah, not everyone can be born a sexy genius, Uncle Pennybags.” Deadpool put his hands up. “I just feel like it’s my civic duty to inform you that Shocker here was gonna kidnap Spider-Baby for who-knows-what nefarious purposes.” 

Iron Man’s tone turned even more steely. “What?”

“I know I’m not exactly on the side of the angels or devils, but I’m _in_ the community so I hear things; apparently there’s a bounty on Avengers. Dead or alive.” Deadpool patted Peter on the cheek. “I hate to think what might’ve happened to this baby puppy if I hadn’t showed up in time.“

“I was handling it!” Peter exclaimed, smacking Deadpool’s hand away. “That gas only knocked me out for like ten minutes, and those cuffs were really easy to break- I didn’t even lose that much blood when he came at me with the lightsaber…”

Peter stopped, realizing he was making the situation worse. The cold fury very palpably radiating from Iron Man had made even Deadpool fall silent. If the rigid set of Iron Man’s shoulders was any indication, someone was going to be in very deep trouble. Peter had a sinking feeling it was going to be him.

Deadpool tutted and shook his head. “If your story was meant to be reassuring, you accomplished the exact opposite.”

“This is all your fault.” Peter grumbled.

Deadpool pointed at himself, innocent-eyed. “Watashi?”

“If you hadn’t showed up and slowed me down I’d have escaped in ten seconds.”

“He was kicking your ass!”

“I had it under control.”

“You were about to be flattened by a shipping container! I saved your spidery little life!”

“Both of you, be quiet.” Tony’s clipped voice broke through. He let out a bone-weary sigh. “Why am I the one who has to be an adult? No, Deadpool, you don’t count.” He added as Deadpool began raising his hand.

Deadpool lowered his hand sulkily. 

Iron Man ignored him. “Spider-Man: come with me for debrief. Deadpool: go about your business, but don’t let me catch you again or there _will_ be consequences.”

Deadpool snickered. “Like what? You’ll put a collar on me and lock me up in your super-dungeon with security cameras in every room? Kinky.”

“Don’t flatter yourself, you’re barely worth the attention.” 

“Oh, is that the game we’re playing?” Deadpool winked. “Insult me more, Iron Daddy!”

The repulsor began to charge up. “Final warning.”

“Aye-aye.” Deadpool saluted mockingly. He ripped Shocker off the wall and slung the unconscious baddie over one brawny shoulder like a sack of potatoes next to the Chitauri weapon. “Okie-dokie, Spider-Man, you seem to be in good hands, so if you'll excuse me, I have a bounty to collect.”

“Are you gonna kill him?” Peter asked suspiciously.

Deadpool hummed. “I don’t think that’s any of your concern. Most likely, yeah.”

“But we had a deal!”

“I don’t remember that deal covering what I do _after_ I get out of here.” Deadpool twisted a pinky into his ear. “Life lesson: read the fine print next time.”

Iron Man stepped in front of Deadpool. “Let's go, Spider-Man.”

“You can’t! Don’t kill him!” Peter exclaimed, trying to push past. “Deadpool! You’re better than this!”

Deadpool puffed off the piece of lint on his finger. “And I should listen to you because…?”

“It's wrong to kill anyone, even criminals.” Peter tried. The mercenary made a derisive sound and continued walking away.

Peter put every ounce of pleading into his voice. He was really bad at trying to convince people into doing things. He thought of the way Andy would try to wheedle things out of May - out of the three of them, the middle Parker brother had always had a talent for charming people into doing his bidding.

Right now, Peter wished for even a miniscule amount of that charm. “Please?”

Deadpool stopped dead in his tracks. He let out a long, strangled growl, which morphed into an exasperated sigh. “ _Fiiiiiiine,_ Webs. I won’t kill him.” 

“Promise?”

“Yeah, yeah. You have my word.” Deadpool grumbled. “Stupid conscience, why didn’t I get that surgically removed? The reward sex better be worth this...”

“Leave.” Iron Man said stonily.

“I’m going, I’m going. Things to meet, people to do. At least I still have a wholesome family gathering with my baby boy to look forward to...” his voice floated away as he skipped off into the night.

Iron Man huffed. “That guy's a pain in my ass and not the fun kind.”

“You know him?” 

“Unfortunately. ” Iron Man replied sourly. “Deadpool. Mercenary. Loopier than a Six Flags park. He’s not a bad sort, but he can be unstable. Wonder why he's here, though, he usually operates on the west coast. Whatever, not important.” Iron Man shook his head, turning back to Peter. “Can you stand?”

Peter gingerly felt the floor with his toes before climbing to his feet. His vision seemed solid enough. “I can- whoa!” He pitched sideways, the sudden rush of blood making him dizzy.

“I gotcha.” 

Peter oofed as the suit caught him up by the shoulders, pulling him to his feet and holding him up. “I’m fine, really.” Peter tried to shrug out of the grip. “I was just practising my breakdancing moves.”

Any other time, his quip would’ve been met with a lighthearted remark. But Peter didn’t need a spider sense to feel the baleful glare coming through the Iron Man mask. Any hopes he’d had that Tony had been too distracted by Deadpool to yell at Peter swiftly evaporated.

In a last ditch attempt, Peter cleared his throat. “W-wow, talk about a coincidence right? Mr Stark, you would not believe the night I’ve had-”

“I already don’t.” Iron Man cut him off curtly. “FRIDAY, deploy P.A.P.O.O.S.E. We’re going to the safehouse.”

“What does that stand for- aargh!” Peter startled into a yelp as a metal detached itself from the Iron Man suit and latched onto his back like a jetpack. Before he could draw another breath the air rushed out of his lungs as he zoomed into the sky beside Iron Man.

_Nope. Still busted._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WWBBD: What Would Baby Boy Do
> 
> I tried coming up with a funny acronym for P.A.P.O.O.S.E but they all sucked so I left it out. Paramedic Portable Operative, Supervisor Edition? Idk lol
> 
> Hope you guys enjoyed that! Deadpool did not exist in my original draft of this fic, but he somehow snuck his way in. As you do XD I find Deadpool difficult to write because he’s always cracking jokes, so I hope you guys found him funny


	8. Chapter 8

“What the hell were you thinking?!” 

Tony was still fuming as they landed on the roof of a nondescript brownstone. The short flight had done nothing to lessen his anger.

“There’s not much to say. A problem came up and I dealt with it.” Peter replied sullenly as the jetpack (he couldn’t believe Tony actually named it a papoose) deposited him a few paces behind his mentor.

“Dealt with it?” Tony let out a furious scoff, striding towards the access stairs. He jabbed at a high-tech looking keypanel that looked completely out of place from their humble surroundings. “If getting kidnapped and injured is your idea of ‘dealing with it’, I’d hate to see what you’d consider a catastrophe...” 

“ _Almost_ kidnapped.” 

“What was that?”

“Nothing.” 

“This is absolutely _not_ the time to start getting fresh with me.” Tony swiped his thumb on the keypad and irritably beckoned him to follow as the door slid open. Snapping his jaw shut, Peter trailed behind him, half-cradling his injured arm to his chest. 

Another keypad awaited them at the bottom of the stair landing, then a short hallway, then another password-protected hatch. Finally, they came to a door that looked less like a security vault and an actual front door that actual people might have in their homes.

It swung open at Tony’s push, and Peter blinked at the sudden brightness that flooded his new surroundings.

The extremely well-furnished living room was easily five times the size of the Parker's apartment: High ceilings, stylishly minimalist furniture, expensive-looking paintings by an artist whose name he probably couldn't pronounce. 

“Where are we?”

“Safehouse. I figured we’d crash here for a while since nobody’s used it for months.” 

Peter looked down. His boots had left a grimy, bloody trail in the luxury carpet which probably cost more than a year’s rent. But he felt too tired and dejected to care.

Tony jabbed at the ring of wide flat sofas gathered around a huge tv screen like they had personally offended him. “Siddown and don’t move. I’m getting the first aid kit.” He turned to the Iron Man suit, which had parked itself by the door in sentry mode, and barked out a command. “FRIDAY, babysitting protocol.” 

With that, Tony vanished down a corridor. The suit turned its head towards Peter and crossed its arms. 

With the hollow feeling growing in his chest, Peter flung himself onto the car-sized sofa with a huff, letting his head drop against the back of the chair to gaze at the high ceiling. 

Beneath the leaden guilt of knowing he’d fucked up, Peter couldn’t quite ignore a slow coiling of anger. Why the hell was Tony being such a bully about this? 

The dustup with Shocker was _nothing_ compared to the debacle with the Long Island ferry: this time nobody had gotten hurt, nothing had exploded, and Peter had escaped unscatched- Yeah, he’d gotten scratched, which stung like a mother hubbard, but honestly it was starting to hurt less than it had initially. 

Why was this such a big deal?

“He was really worried when you disappeared.” FRIDAY‘s calm voice broke through Peter’s grumpy thoughts.

He glared at the suit. “I don’t need you lecturing me, too.”

“I’m stating a fact. Mr Stark cares about you a great deal.”

“If he did, then he’d trust me to make my own decisions.”

FRIDAY kept silent at that, and Peter sighed, looking down at his arm. Blood had leaked through his fingers and onto the couch, leaving a dark stain in the powder blue fabric. 

Great.

“The point of all those team training sessions was to learn how to fight in tandem.” FRIDAY offered. “It defeats the entire purpose of them if you charge off on your own.”

Peter’s insides gave another guilty twist. He was just trying to clean up his own mess, but other people had gotten dragged in as well. 

“If I see something bad happening, it’s on _me_ to do something to stop it. It’s-” he coughed, throat feeling more parched than a desert. “It’s what Tony would do.” 

“Uh, no he wouldn’t. Know why? Because _Tony_ knows how to keep his head in a crisis.” Tony drawled, reappearing at the door with a first aid box tucked under one arm. He looked no less angry than he had five minutes ago.

“So you’re saying I should have done nothing? Stood by and watched as that apartment burned down?” Peter said hotly. “Did you know there was a kid trapped in that building? If I hadn’t been there, they could’ve burned alive!”

“I’m not saying what you did wasn’t good, I’m saying how you went about it was completely garbage.” Tony ground out slowly, as if Peter was a very slow toddler. “What's the first thing we always emphasised in training? ‘Always check in with-’

“‘Always check in with your buddy’, yeah, yeah I know.” Peter said impatiently. “But I keep telling you, there wasn’t _time-”_

Tony scoffed. “Bullshit. It took you less than ten minutes to swing over to the fire. You could’ve spent ten seconds giving a heads up.” 

Peter flopped against the couch with a huff. “Okay, I get it! I disappointed you again! Sorry, I was wrong, I don't know anything. There, I said it. Are you happy?” 

Ignoring him, Tony took something out of the first aid kit and knelt down in front of Peter. “Let me see your arm.”

“Go away.” Peter curled his arm around himself, trying to hide the sharp burst of pain.

Tony took a slow breath through his teeth. “Can you stop being such a teenager?” 

“Can’t help what I am.”

”Again with the attitude?”

Unmoved, Peter unleashed every teenager’s deadliest combo: an eyeroll, a shrug, and a scoff. “Whatever.” 

“Don’t ‘whatever’ me, this is your life you’re talking about!” Tony barked, face tight with anger. “What if you’d gotten injured- if you got kidnapped- or died?”

“I’m sitting right here, so there wasn’t anything to worry about.” Peter snapped. He couldn’t help goading him a little more. “What more do you want? For me to apologize for not following the Avengers playbook to the letter, or...” 

A look of stunned frustration settled over Tony’s ace. “I didn’t want to do this, but you’re not giving me a lot of options.” He pressed his lips together. “I’m telling May.”

Pete froze. “You wouldn’t.” 

“Try me.”

“You can’t! She won’t let me use the suit ever again! Or until I'm like thirty!”

“Give me one reason why that's a bad thing.” Tony held up a hand. His voice turned chilly. “Don't push me. I _will_ ground you for your own protection if I have to.”

“Because you care so much? It’s not like you’re my real dad or anything.” The venomous words slipped out of Peter’s mouth before he realised what he was saying. 

_Oh god oh god god. I shouldn’t have said that._ He knew he’d crossed a line.

Tony rocked back on his heels, staring at him wordlessly, eyes blank. He looked like he’d been punched in the face.

Peter gulped. His anger evaporated in a flash, replaced by a pit of endless shame. “Mr Stark, I’m sorry-”

He was met with silence.

“I‘m sorry, I was mad, I wasn’t thinking, I didn’t mean it-“ Peter babbled, horrified with himself. He wanted to cry.

He should’ve known the stupid cursed Parker luck would find some way to jinx him into fucking up even more of his life.

Rather than walk away, Tony let out a bone-weary sigh, all traces of anger having fallen from him like a shell. 

“You’re right, I’m not. And I’m not trying to be.” He seemed to deflate in on himself, looking old and tired in a way beyond the physical. “Nobody can do that.”

“Mr Stark, I’m sorr-”

“You and your folks have been through a lot. Christ, I can’t imagine how it’s been like to deal with everything at your age.” 

Peter’s swallowed against the lump in his throat. 

“What you’re doing as Spider-Man is something that goes beyond duty. I get it, I really do.” Tony’s throat worked. “But I’m trying my damndest to look out for you, Peter. If you got hurt or worse, that's all on me.”

“It’s not your fault. We get beat up in fights all the time.” Peter shook his head. “It’s not a big deal.”

“That’s not the point.” Tony’s jaw tightened. “The responsibility that goes with great power isn’t just something you carry; it’s being responsible for everyone else too.”

“I'm sorry.” Peter felt like he was repeating himself for the millionth time, but it did nothing to assuage the guilty feeling in his gut. “I didn’t mean to say what I said.”

“You can prove you're sorry by checking in the next time you go on patrol.” Tony said a little sharply, making Peter flinch. The man sighed again. “Can I please see your arm before you bleed all over the safehouse?”

Meekly, Peter stretched out his arm. “I think it stopped bleeding a while ago, actually.”

“That’s a surprise. Considering your arm looks like a unicorn barfed all over it.” Tony raised an eyebrow at Deadpool’s handiwork, and began the complicated process of hacking through the cocoon of Hello Kitty band aids with bandage scissors. 

The only sound was the clip of scissors through fabric. Peter chewed the inside of his cheek. “Uh... Mr Stark?”

“What?”

Peter rested his good elbow on his legs. “Why did you get so freaked out, anyway? We’ve fought guys stronger than Shocker.” 

Tony exhaled deeply. “Think about it from my perspective: you disappear for almost an hour, FRIDAY sends me a distress signal- oh wait, there’s no way to contact you because Karen is offline, so I have to find out what you’re doing from social media - you were trending a few hours ago, congrats - when I finally track you down it’s in a murdery-looking warehouse, and thereyou are, covered in blood, next to an maniac infamous for turning people into ground meat.”

Peter cocked his head to one side, considering all that. “It does sound kinda terrible when you say it all like that.”

Tony scoffed and gave the bandaid a particularly vicious snip. “You think?” 

“But Deadpool actually seems like an okay guy. A little gun-happy and homicidal, but I don’t think he was gonna attack me- ow!” Peter hissed as Tony peeled the final layer of fabric back from his arm. The suit had gummed to the edges of the wound tugging painfully at the torn skin as it was pulled away. 

“Shh, almost got it.” Tony said, calm and reassuring. “There we go.” 

Finally, his arm was free. Shocker’s knife had left a long gash stretching from his forearm to below his bicep. Peter felt a little sick looking at it.

“Can you move your fingers?”

“Yeah.” 

“That’s good. Looks like most of the bleeding has stopped.” Tony inspected the cut with an experienced eye. The mercenary’s field bandage had done a surprisingly serviceable job of staunching the bleeding. “But this needs to be cleaned so you don't get an infection. We don’t need more one-armed wonders running around and getting in trouble.”

“Do I need stitches?” Peter asked reluctantly. He’d had his first experience with stitches months ago after a run-in with some criminals, and he didn’t want to repeat _that_ painful process.

“I have something better.” Opening the first aid kid, Tony took out what looked like an extremely high-tech spray bottle. “This is a nanite medical spray I’ve been developing. Decontaminates and sutures wounds.”

Peter watched curiously as Tony spritzed the jet over his wound. The foam sizzled a bit as it covered the torn skin tissue, flooding his arm with a cooling sensation. “Feels fizzy.”

“Those are the nanites at work synthesizing tissue and applying antibiotics. Pretty cool, I know. It's not yet officially part of the Avengers arsenal, but I've tested it on myself so I can confirm it's 112% safe to use.” 

In wonderment, Peter turned his arm over to examine the nanites. The foam had turned a pearly grey color. “This is so cool, I hate needles.”

“I know, right?” Tony sniffed. “But maybe I should have let you get stitches, to teach you a lesson about putting yourself in danger unnecessarily.”

The smile that’d been threatening to rise to Peter’s cheeks dropped. He cleared his throat. “Were... you seriously gonna tell May that I’m Spider-Man?”

Tony paused, before wearily lifting a hand to wipe the sweat from his brow. “No. It’s not my secret to tell.” Then, before Peter could get too relieved, he continued. “But you do know you’re gonna have to tell her eventually.”

“I know.” Peter wasn’t looking forward to that day, but if keeping his secret was what kept his loved ones safe, then he’d keep them in the dark as long as he could.

“Then… are you gonna confiscate the suit?” 

Tony clicked his tongue. “What’d be the point? You’d just sneak out again with that janky hoodie-and-PJs combo, and we all know how well that went the last time.”

“I‘d fight crime in a kigurumi if I had to.” Peter quipped, trying to lighten the mood.

“ _Please_ don’t do that. For the sake of fashion if nothing else.”

“You’re sure? I think I could make it work.”

“Look, all jokes aside…” Tony turned around, a note of pleading in his voice. “Even if it’s an emergency and you have to dash out, just… please promise you’ll let me know. For backup, if anything else. Don’t freak me out like that.”

“Ok. Promise.” Peter nodded. He fully intended to make the effort, at least.

Tony didn’t look like he completely believed him, but he nodded. “Then we’re good.” 

“Wait, what?” Peter couldn’t believe that the matter was closed, just like that. “That’s it?”

“What do you want now, a cookie?”

“No, I…” Peter swung his legs against the sofa, wondering if he really should be saying this. “I thought you were gonna bench me from active duty or something.”

Tony gave him a tired look. “Are you _asking_ to be benched?”

“No! No way. I solemnly swear to notify the Iron Legion if there’s a cat stuck up a tree.” 

“I don’t care if there’s 200 crying kitty cats stuck in every tree in Central Park. Daredevil, or Moon Knight, or one of the hundreds of _other_ heroes currently patrolling New York can handle it.”

Peter snorted. “If you’re gonna make up hypothetical superheroes for effect, you could try coming up with less fake names.”

“Shows what you know.” Tony shifted around and began tidying up the medical kit. “Mind explaining to me how you knew to go haring across the city to save people from a fire? You were on it before the emergency services got there.”

Ah. There was that other thing.

“It's like I have this… this weird tingle in my brain.” Peter gestured helplessly in the air, for lack of a better word. “Like, when something dangerous is gonna happen, I'll just… know.”

“Sounds like some kind of low level precognitive ability.”

“Right? It usually kicks in when I’m fighting, tells me where the bullets are so I can dodge them. Today was unusual because it called me across the city.” Peter sat up eagerly. “That could really come in handy, right? We could know about threats before they even happen!”

“Don’t get ahead of yourself, Minority Report.”

“I’m serious! We should test it out in the training session! Then we could figure out how to use it in missions.”

With arms folded, Tony fixed a stern look at him. “That’s assuming you’ll be allowed out on missions any time soon.” 

Peter paused mid-speech, jaw hanging open _“Whaaaat?”_

“Actions have consequences, kiddo.” Tony’s lips were pressed into a flat line, but there was a twinkle in his eyes that told him he was hiding a smile. “But we’ll see.”

“Blah.” Peter slumped back against the couch. “Why do I have the feeling I’m gonna be stuck on helping seniors across the street duty?”

“A noble duty, but someone’s gotta do it.” Tony took out a rectangular device from the kit and pressed a couple buttons on it, before adding in a too-casual tone. “Hey, quick question: was Empire Strikes Back or Last Jedi the best Star Trek film?

“What? Mr Stark you just committed nerd blasphemy- Ow!” Peter jumped at the sudden bite of pain in his finger.

“Sorry. Needed a distraction so I could get a blood sample.” Unperturbed, Tony examined the readings on the device. “Levels seem normal, that’s good. No blood toxicity.”

Squeezing his stinging finger, Peter glared. “You tricked me!” 

“Wouldn’t your spidey tingle have warned you?” 

“It warns me of threats!” 

The edge of Tony’s mouth quirked up. “Then it’s a good thing there weren’t any to begin with.” 

Peter sulked. “I hate needles.”

“You’ll live.”

Feeling petulant, Peter plucked up one of the untouched Hello Kitty bandaids and wrapped it over the small cut.

Tony drummed his fingers on the coffee table thoughtfully. “Hold up. You said the tingly thing warns you when there’s danger.” 

“Yeah?”

“You’re right; we _have_ faced tougher bad guys than Shocker. I know you could’ve handled him alone. And yet... “ Tony turned to face him, brown eyes perceptive. “What happened just now?”

 _Why couldn’t you handle one non-powered supervillain by yourself?_ The implied question lurked beneath. 

Peter felt his eyes itch. “I...”

“Pete?” Tony leaned forward, eyes full of concern. “What’s going on?”

“Nothing.”

“It’s not nothing, I know you.” Tony’s voice softened. “It’s okay.”

Peter twisted his hand into the couch cushions till it was a twitch from ripping. “There’s actually something weird that's been happening with me lately…”

Tony looked even more stressed. “Okay. What is it?”

Peter’s tongue felt dry. But he figured he’d already dug his grave, so he took a deep breath and plunged off. “Back at the warehouse, I think… I had a panic attack.” 

Tony stilled at the words, face sharpening.

“When that huge vent started falling I just blanked out. Couldn’t breathe. I... thought I was gonna die.”

Tony didn’t reply, but he immediately sat down next to him on the sofa, giving Peter his full attention.

Bit by bit, the story came out. The months-long nightmares of being crushed to death. How in the heat of the moment the claustrophobia would make him forget his training. How even certain angles, certain moments, certain sounds would catch him off guard, snapping him back to that warehouse that fateful Homecoming night.

Saying all this out loud was terrifying. Embarrassing. There was no way Tony would have any respect for hil after this. But being able to tell all this to _somebody_ felt... strangely liberating.

“You’ve been feeling like this since Toomes? And you didn’t tell anyone?” Tony asked quietly. His expression hadn’t wavered once during Peter’s retelling, showing no sign of pity or scorn. “Is that how Shocker managed to escape last week?”

Peter nodded, not trusting his voice to speak. He wished he’d never said anything in the first place. After all, what kind of hero had panic attacks?

“Shit.” Tony’s hands grew tight on his knees. 

Peter could feel the disappointment radiating off his mentor, washing over him like a cold wave. To make matters worse, his vision started to prickle. If his escapades with the fire rescue and Shocker hadn’t done it, this surely was the death knell.

Feeling even more pathetic, Peter whispered. “Please don’t kick me off the team.” 

“What? No! Of course not.” Tony’s face broke into shocked despair. “Oh, kid, all this time I had no idea you were dealing with this...”

Peter stared resolutely at a patch of carpet, not daring to move a muscle. His dignity was already in tatters but if he started _fucking crying..._

_Don’t start crying, don’t start crying, don’t start crying..._

He could hear Tony shifting around. “I want you to know that there’s nothing to be ashamed of. Truly.”

“What would you know about anything?” Peter forced out through gritted teeth, hating the tremor in his voice. “You’re _Iron Man._ Gajillionaire genius philanthropist superhero, and I’m just-”

“The bravest, brightest young adult I know, who deals with a remarkable amount of responsibility without complaining.” Tony broke in pointedly. “Every single day.”

Peter shook his head, voice dropping to a hoarse whisper. “What kind of loser gets panic attacks?”

Tony went on casually, as if discussing the weather. “Then I guess I’m a loser too, because after the Battle of New York in 2012, I had panic attacks for months.”

Peter spun around to face him. “You-”

“Me. When I flew that nuke through the portal, I wasn’t expecting to come back. But then I did.” Tony rubbed his temples. His gaze went distant. “Every night, I’d dream about falling endlessly through space. Couldn’t stand even the mention of space or rockets. Which is kind of inconvenient when you’re an engineer and you need to design a defence system to combat extraterrestrial threats...” 

“How did you get through it? How long did it take?” 

“Well, it didn’t happen overnight. I tried burying myself in work, missions, stupid shit. All terrible coping mechanisms, by the way. Made things worse in the long run.” Tony’s eyes rested on the stationary iron suit, a wry smile curling his mouth. “Things only started to get better when I started talking about it to professionals and people I cared about.”

“Wow, that easy, huh?” Peter puffed out a harsh breath. “All I needed to fix everything was a good cry and the power of friendship. Groundbreaking. Who’d have thought?”

“Don’t knock it till you’ve tried it. I’m in no way saying that you’re gonna take the same journey as me.” Tony said patiently, ignoring Peter’s scoff. “The very fact that you’ve told me? That’s a start.” 

“Start of what?”

“It takes a lot of bravery to talk about the shit you’re going through.” Tony said simply

Peter twitched his shoulders into a shrug. He didn’t feel very brave at all.

“If you ever feel overwhelmed, talk to someone. Look, it doesn’t even have to be me if you don’t feel comfortable. There are so many people who care about you: May, your brothers, your friends, Ned or MJ, even a teacher, the school counselor...” Tony squared his chin, determination coloring his features. “PTSD is no joke. We can get you the help you need. Don’t worry about keeping your identity secret, the medical team for the Avengers has NDAs signed up the wazoo...” 

“Wait, wait, I don’t need therapy.” Peter quickly raised his hands. “I mean- it’s not like I’m not panicking like _all the time,_ or can’t function. There are so many other kids in my school who are way worse off than I am. _They_ are the ones who actually deserve help. You shouldn’t _waste...”_ he stuttered to a halt, treacherous tears threatening to rise again.

“Kid… you have such a big heart. But you need to start caring about yourself, too.” Tony’s tired smile was far too understanding, and Peter couldn’t meet them. “There’s always somebody in a shittier situation. You don’t need to be humanity’s punching bag to be _deserving_ of support.” He squeezed Peter’s shoulder firmly. “From an objective perspective, the fact you’re having nightmares and panic attacks would indicate that this is affecting your life pretty strongly. And it doesn’t have to.”

Peter blinked at his mentor, a curious feeling bubbling up in his chest. 

“Pete,” Tony added gently. “You don’t have to deal with this alone.”

Peter gave a quick nod, before turning away to cough, feeling a little awkward at the turn the conversation had taken. “Okay. I’ll- I’ll try to start talking about it more. But can we table the therapy thing? I don’t know if I’m ready to-”

“Of course. It’s always there if you need it.” Sensing Peter wanted to be done with the personal talk, Tony smoothly dumped a pile of snacks on the table: a bottled sports drink and several energy bars. “Okay, feelings time is over. Now, you’re gonna sit here and finish all this food - I know how you enhanced types burn up calories - while I reboot Karen. Then we’re gonna head back to the party.”

Peter nodded and reached for one of the energy bars. It was one of those fancy high-end ones, filled with chocolate and some kind of super berry. It was delicious. Once he’d started he couldn’t stop and before he knew it he’d downed three more bars before reaching for the sports drink.

The chilled isotonic drink was refreshing on his parched throat. It tasted like a mixture of every fruit and yet not artificially sweet, perfectly summing up the taste of red. 

_Why is red the best flavour?_ He thought idly, suddenly overcome by the urge to giggle.

Before he knew it, there was a pile of empty wrappers before him. Peter yawned. The sustenance had blunted the gnawing edge of his hunger, and fatigue was starting to creep in. He hadn’t how much energy he’d expended in the fire and confrontation with Shocker, not to mention the emotional energy from the argument. 

_Sleepy…_ The food in his belly left him sleepy and comfortable. He curled up against the couch cushions to watch Tony work on the AI.

He was distantly aware of being patted on the head as he slipped into light doze. 

—

A light squeeze on his shoulder brought him out of the comfortable sleep-place.

“Five more minutes,” Peter mumbled. He didn’t want to go to school just yet.

“No can do. Any later and May will kill us.” The voice sounded like Mr Stark. “Come on, Pete…”

Peter blinked sleepily, fuzzily wondering where he was. It took him a moment more to catch up back to the present. 

The safehouse. Fight with Shocker. Fight with Tony. He was curled up against the back of the sofa, a blanket had been tucked over him.

“We’re back on the grid.” Tony was examining a familiar blue HUD projecting out from the Spidey suit’s eyepiece. “Welcome back, Karen.”

“Thank you, Mr Stark. It’s good to see you, Peter.”

“Hey, Karen.” 

“How are you feeling?” The AI asked.

Peter stretched. Truth be told, he felt much better after the short nap. He glanced down at his arm: the nanite spray had spread over his arm, encasing it in a silvery bandage-like sleeve. Best of all, it didn’t hurt anymore. “Pretty good, actually.”

Peter ducked his head, remembering his rude behaviour from earlier. “Sorry for not listening to you. And for being a douche.”

“That’s quite alright. I’m just glad you’re okay.”

“How’s the diagnosis?” Tony asked the AI briskly.

Karen’s response was swift and businesslike. “The application of the nanite spray has disinfected the wound and it appears to be improving. It should be fully healed within a week. Perhaps even faster, due to Peter’s accelerated healing factor.” 

Tony’s eyebrow raised. “You have a healing factor?”

Peter blinked. “I have a healing factor?”

“Accelerated healing is indeed among Spider-Man’s abilities.” Karen continued sunnily. She projected a series of graphs and readings. “I analyzed Peter’s biometrics and fight data from encounters with other supervillains. According to my calculations, I estimate your metabolism to be comparable to or even more efficient than Captain America’s.”

“Whoa…” Peter gazed at his bandaged arm with new eyes. 

“I analysed the blood sample, and found no trace of the sedative used earlier. Your system has flushed out any contaminants.”

Peter turned to Tony, beaming. “See? There was nothing to worry about.”

“‘Nothing?!’ Do you know how worried I was?”

Peter shrugged. “Yeah, but I handled it.”

Tony sputtered. “Don’t get all cocky just because things worked out for you this time!” 

“I’m not being cocky, I’m stating facts.” Peter insisted. “Karen said it herself, I’m basically Captain America.”

“Technically, I said your metabolism is ‘comparable’ to Cap, not that you _are_ Cap.”

“Only mostly.” Peter whispered. 

“I can’t believe this. Tony growled. “Karen, quit encouraging him.”

Peter grinned. “You’re just mad you got all mushy for nothing.”

“Mushy? You ungrateful little- ” 

Peter tapped his chin. “Y’know, maybe we’ve got things the wrong way round. Since I’m the one with the super strength and healing powers, perhaps _I_ should be the one protecting you.”

“In your dreams.” Tony flicked a finger at Peter’s forehead. “And that’s enough out of you. The whole idea is to avoid getting injured in the first place.” 

“Okay, okay.” Peter got to his feet. Now that he was more himself, he had time to study his surroundings. “Is this where the Avengers stay when they’re in town?”

“That was the plan.” 

“Can we take a look around?” Peter gazed at the door hopefully. He wondered if Black Widow or Thor had rooms in the safehouse.

“We really should be heading back-” Tony rubbed his forehead, knowing he was losing this battle. “Okay, fine. Come on, I’ll give you a quick tour.”

Tony led Peter around the place, opening doors to reveal all types of rooms: a gaming room, a kitchenette, a music room, dance studio, a small lab. 

“How many houses do you have?”

“I have a bunch of properties around the city that serve as emergency safehouses.” Tony said casually, striding down the halls as if he was used to being surrounded by amazing facilities every day. Oh, wait, he probably did. Perks of being a billionaire superhero.

Peter glanced through a viewing panel, unable to hold back an awed gasp at what was clearly a private bowling alley. If all the players were Hulk-sized. “Whoa. Do all the safehouses have all this stuff, too?” 

“Pretty much. Truth be told, nobody’s used the safehouses recently. But I keep everything fully stocked in case any Avenger ever needs it.” 

Peter peered through a frosted glass wall at a small gym, which was outfitted with a few weight machines, treadmills, yoga mats, and a large pile of unused punching bags stacked in a corner. “Like Captain America?” 

“Maybe.” Tony cleared his throat, looking self-conscious all of a sudden. “Tour’s over. Time to get back to the party.”

“You… still want to go to the party?”

“Yeah? Why wouldn’t I?” A hint of uncertainty entered Tony’s eyes. “Unless that was a subtle cue for my exit.”

“No, that’s not it!” Peter took a deep breath and looked his mentor in the eye. He had to say this properly. “Mr Stark, I’m… I’m really sorry for what I said earlier. I was being a huge jerk when you were trying to help...”

“Don’t worry about it.” Tony shook his head flippantly. “I was a jerk teenager too, once upon a time.“

Peter continued on. “I know I should’ve told you what I was doing but... I wanted to prove I could handle problems on my own.” He couldn’t stop a nervous chuckle escaping. “After all it was kinda my fault Shocker got away in the first place...”

“It’s not your fault-“ Tony tried to interrupt but Peter hurried on before he lost his nerve.

“And I know I messed everything up today. I wanted to help, but I made stuff worse...” His bandaged hand balled into a fist. “I didn’t mean to be a problem.”

Tony’s eyes grew sadder, throat jumping. The next thing Peter knew, Tony had crossed the room to crush him into a hug. 

Peter blinked wildly, suddenly feeling another lump form in his throat. The simple action made him feel protected and cared for, like something Ben would do. 

_Had it already been a year since he’d been gone?_

“You are _not_ a problem.” Tony said gruffly. “Never.”

Peter made a vague sound in the affirmative, not daring to say anything in case he burst into tears. Tony gave a final squeeze and let him go. 

Standing a few feet apart, Tony made a big show of looking at his watch gauntlet while Peter quickly swiped at his eyes and pulled a few fake yawns to explain away the sudden wateriness.

“If we leave now, we can make it back before May’s cider is done. Karen, ping FRIDAY if he gets dizzy or feverish.”

“Yes, boss.”

Peter grinned. “Come on, I told you I'm fine! Out of the two of us, who has a healing factor?”

“Having a healing factor does _not_ make you invincible, so stop getting ideas.” Tony groaned theatrically, falling back into banter mode. “I swear to Thor, it feels like I’m running a superhero daycare.”

They departed the safehouse, Spider-Man swinging a little slower to favor his arm, and Iron Man hanging back a little to allow him to keep up. 

Peter’s arm was slightly achey, and he was starting to feel a little grimey from the blood and dust of his earlier encounter. But he felt lighter and happier than he had in ages. 

He smiled.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m back! The past few months were busy, dealing with reorganisation at my work, general pandemic shit, getting into new fandoms (hi MDZS!), and other life stuff. 
> 
> Phew this was a difficult chapter to write and I’m glad I finished it. Next chapter will get to the dinner party for reals!


	9. Chapter 9

When they got back to the Parkers’ apartment, the aroma of spice and apples hung heavy in the air. 

Peter breathed a sigh of relief as he and Tony quietly slipped through the door. “Phew. Stealth mode deactivated.”

“Black Widow herself would be proud.” Tony rubbed his hands together. “And now, it’s time for me to work some food magic.” 

“Awesome, what do you need me to- Hey!” Peter yelped as Tony’s hand landed on his shoulder and firmly steered him towards the living room. “I can help too!”

“You’ve helped quite enough tonight.” Tony said in a tone that brooked no argument. He pointed at Peter, then at the ground. “You. Stay right here. Rest that arm.”

“I’m fine! I have a-”

“Nuh-uh.” Tony made a mouth zipping motion. “If you say ‘I have a healing factor’ one more time...” Tony let his words hang ominously in the air and turned to go, throwing one more glare at Peter before vanishing into the kitchen.

“I wasn’t going to say that.” Peter muttered. To be perfectly honest, he was a little relieved for a short break. His nerves still felt raw from their earlier encounter, and he felt jittery with the need to  _ do  _ something, anything to take his mind off it. 

Turning his back on the lively clatter emanating from the kitchen, Peter wandered over to the couch, idly thinking about catching up on one of his favorite streamers. 

A flash of motion caught his eye, and he realised the couch was already occupied. “Oh. Hey, Wade.”

“Hola, baby boy’s baby brother.” Wade waved cheerily. He had a half-filled tortilla skin in one hand and a spoonful of beans in the other. 

“Watcha doing?”

“What I do best: making sweet, sweet love between meat, beans, and cheese. The dirty threesome that produces the most heavenly mouthgasms.” Wade gestured to the mountain of bowls around him. Each contained the fixings for chimichangas: ground turkey, cheese cubes, jalapenos, beans, and a few other things Peter couldn’t identify. 

“Can I help?” 

“Sure thing! It’s really simple: grab a skin and some filling and stuff it in like your brother stuffs-” Wade’s eyes widened, hastily doing a 180 from the clearly R-rated comparison he was about to make. “-like your brother stuffs… code into the computer! Which is a completely normal thing people do. With their clothes on.”

Rolling his eyes, Peter swung over the couch to join him. “I know what sex is, I wasn’t born yesterday.”

“ _ Stoooooop. _ ” Wade made an unhappy sound. “It’s weird when people half my age talk about naughty stuff. You should be out in the sun playing with your Ultramans and Dragonballs instead of catching pokey mons on your phones.”

“Bruh. You’re so old.” Peter shook his head, amused.

Through the years, he had spoken to Wade only a handful of times, but it had been enough to form a positive impression of his brother’s very big, very blond, and very Canadian boyfriend. At first glance, Wade cut a pretty imposing figure, not least because of his gnarly scar collection: old burn marks ran up his neck and across a good portion of his face, raised scar tissue trailed up and down his arms like mountain ranges. But one only had to talk to Wade for two seconds to realise he was just a harmless goofball with a witty, if crude, sense of humour. 

To an outsider, Andy’s and Wade’s relationship seemed like a total mystery: one would think a true-blue nerd like Andy would want nothing to do with a stereotypical jock like Wade. 

But despite being polar opposites, Wade and Andy were stupidly head over heels in love with each other, which was good enough for May and Peter. May had privately mentioned to Peter how she’d never seen Andy smile so much since he’d moved to California. 

Wade hummed, huge hands handling ground turkey, cheese cubes, and jalapenos with surprising delicacy as he packed them away into tortilla skins. 

“So how’s school?”

“Ugh, boring.” Peter began scooping up salsa and beans. “How’s work?”

Wade sighed. “Work was killer. But luckily I'm very good at what I do. Anything to see my baby boy and favorite brother-in-law-to-be.” 

Peter squinted. “Last time you said Tobey was your favourite brother-in-law-to-be.”

“Did I? Well, you’re my favourite now!”

“For now.” Peter said drolly. “It’s okay, I’m used to being overlooked.”

Wade’s eyes teared up so quickly it would have been funny if he wasn’t also wielding a knife. “Don’t say that, baby unicorn. Who hurt you? 

“Who hasn’t?” 

“I see.” Wade nodded seriously. “There’s no way I can let that stand. Give me these peoples names and I’ll murderize them.” 

Peter raised an eyebrow.

Wade paused before quickly adding. “Figuratively, of course.”

“Sure, Wade. Nothing solves problems like a bunch of murder. Can’t believe I never thought of that myself.” Peter replied sarcastically. 

“I know, right?” Wade replied, eyes widening earnestly.

Peter rolled his eyes. Typical Wade and his weird humor. “For someone who works as a security guard, you sure make a ton of murder threats. Isn’t that like the complete opposite of what you’re supposed to do?”

“You’d be surprised at the daily life of a… security guard. You never know who needs killing from one day to the next.” Wade said darkly. He spread a knifeful of sour cream on a tortilla. The blade scraped the skin with an audible rasp. 

“What? Tourists? Shoppers? Black Friday sales? A boomer demanding to speak to your manager?”

“Oh, those are the worst. Totally deserve to have their head separated from their necks.” Wade said with an expression of absolute sincerity.

“Huh. Got any funny stories?”

“Now that you mention it, something interesting  _ did _ happen recently!” Wade perked up with a bright smile. “Picture this: it’s another hard day at the office, I’m at the… printer. Busy chopping my way through… paperwork.” 

“Sounds exciting.” 

“Stay with me! I was all set to clock out, but then!” Wade lowered his voice dramatically. “I turn around to see this little kid.” 

“A kid?”

“The  _ tiniest _ little fella you ever did see.” Wade held his thumb and index finger apart the barest inch.

“A kid just... wandered into your office?” Peter side eyed him. “Wouldn’t that like that’d violate a bunch of safety codes? Where were their parents? What were they even doing there?”

“I don’t know!” Wade tutted. “Poor thing was more lost than Nick Fury’s hair. Wouldn’t stop crying. Covered head to toe in… ketchup.”

Peter believed this less and less. “Ketchup?” 

“Yeah, he’d been trying to escape… a rampaging… herd of teddy bears.”

“Is this gonna be one of those stories where the teddy bears turn out to be filled with cocaine?”

“No, that was last Tuesday.” Wade chirped, before hurrying on to continue his story. “Anyway, me being the soft-hearted samaritan I am, immediately dropped everything to help the kiddo out.”

Peter couldn’t help grimacing. He didn’t need to think very hard to imagine what Wade’s idea of ‘helping’ might consist of.

Wade looked affronted. “Don’t give me that look! I didn’t do anything too… well, me.” He sat up taller, folding his huge forearms. “Uncle Wade told him a few jokes to cheer him up. Even broke out my special for-emergencies-but-still-fun bandaids.” Wade brandished his finished chimichanga in the air. “Everyone loves my fun bandaids!”

“If you say so, Wade.” Though, now that Peter thought about it, it was pretty entertaining to imagine Wade dealing with a child in all his crude humour. The thought made him smile.

“You would not believe, but the kid was a little sassbucket. Truly a gremlin after my own heart.” Wade smiled proudly, placing a hand on his chest. “Anyway, his dad showed up round then and took him home, so that was that.”

“That doesn’t sound like an interesting story.” Peter commented. “I was hoping for some real tea. Like teaching rude customers a lesson, stuff like that.”

“Okay, okay. You want spicy stories, I’ll give you spicy stories! Lemme tell you about the time I brought a mannequin, mountain climbing ropes, and a box of cream puffs-“ Wade froze.  _ “What is that?” _

Peter looked down, where the sleeve of his hoodie had rolled back to reveal the bandage on his finger.

The very pink, very conspicuous Hello Kitty bandaid.

Wade’s goofy demeanor was completely gone. His eyes were cold, radiating an intensity that was a little scary to witness.

_ A bandaid? _ Peter was about to reply but some instinct at the back of his brain told him to keep his mouth shut. “Uh, Wade?”

“Your arm got injured?” 

Peter was suddenly aware of the nanite bandage barely poking out from his hoodie sleeve. He hoped it wasn’t too visible. “Nothing, it’s just a scratch…”

“Who did this?” Wade’s tone was flat.

Peter retreated his hand into his hoodie sleeve, trying not to convey the sudden surge of panic. “Oh, you know, one of those food delivery guys on their bikes? I stepped off the curb and one clipped me.” 

The excuse was flimsy and they both knew it. For all Wade acted like a bona fide airhead, he was sharp as a whip; after all, Andy wouldn’t have fallen in love with a complete idiot. 

Wade took a breath and set down his utensils, before saying gravely. “Pete, if you’re ever having a tough time, you know you can tell us. Any of us. Your brother, your aunt, your sister-in-law, your soon-to-be-brother-in-law-at-least-I-hope-so...”

“I told you, I’m fine. It was just a bike messenger… knocked me down…” Peter could see the wheels turning in Wade’s head, and for the strangest reason felt like he was cornered.

This serious Wade was completely unrecognisable from the regular one. For all Wade joked flippantly about murder, the look in his eyes had made Peter start to wonder if was any truth to his words. 

This Wade, Peter could believe, would kill anyone who threatened his loved ones without a hint of hesitation. 

...But that couldn't be right. This was  _ Wade,  _ Andy’s weirdo boyfriend, teller of zany jokes, maker of the best chimichangas, sender of ridiculous holiday cards.

Strangely, something about the current situation gave Peter a sense of deja vu.

Wade loomed closer, the look in his eyes more determined. “I mean it. If anyone ever hurt any of you, I’d …”

A pair of arms materialised over Wade’s shoulders.

“ _ There _ you are.” Andy hooked his chin over Wade’s enormous shoulder. He pressed a kiss against Wade’s cheek. “Hi.”

“Baby boy, we need to talk-” Wade began but Andy was twining himself over his larger boyfriend like a snake and sliding neatly into his lap

“Sure. Let’s talk.” Andy purred into Wade’s neck, eliciting a squeak from the larger man.

“Really, guys? Right in front of the chimichangas?” Peter said weakly, but the couple were too wrapped up in each other to pay attention.

“I’m… I’m worried ab-about…” Wade made an attempt to voice his concerns, but any thoughts he might’ve had kept short-circuiting with how intently Andy seemed on attacking his boyfriend’s face with his teeth. 

“Hn.” Andy smirked. “I’m worried about what’ll happen if you don’t get over here…”

The very moment Andy’s lips touched Wade’s, the big man’s self control shattered like spun sugar, every rational thought immediately dissapating. He growled, scarred hands gripping Andy’s hips. “Baby boy… Why d’you have to drive me nuts all the time?”

“Because I can. Were you good today?”

Wade whined needily and gripped him tighter. “So good. You’d be proud of me.”

“I see you’re getting ready to oil up the chimichangas?”

“Oh yes, they’re all slick and greased up just for you…”

Wishing he could rip his ears off, Peter used the diversion to flee the couch as quickly and stealthily as possible. He shot into his room, closing the door firmly against the horrifying chorus of breathy moans and rustling clothes. There were some things about his brother he would rather  _ not _ know about.

Peter glanced down at the treacherous band aid. The cute pink mascot beamed up at him, unperturbed. He couldn’t understand why, but he had the feeling he’d dodged a bullet.

Weird.

Shaking his head, he ripped off the bandaid and tossed it into a bin. The cut from the blood test had already healed, leaving the skin whole and unmarred. 

_ Whoa, FRIDAY wasn’t kidding about the healing factor. Is it really on par with Captain America’s? _

Something still felt weird. He was filled with the same sense of unease but the spider-sense was silent. What type of warning was his brain trying to tell him...

Peter gasped, realising his biggest blunder of the night. 

“I forgot the cranberry sauce!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have no clue how chimichangas are made so I used Binging With Babish for reference and namedropped a bunch of common thanksgiving foods. I’m not even american yet here I am writing about american holidays lol => (vid here:  https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=szFLA4_pwew
> 
> Couldn’t decide whether to go with scarred!Wade or pretty!Wade so I went with a bit of both
> 
> Am I.... updating once a month.....? Is this....a schedule.....


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I tried to cram in as many Spidey and Marvel references as possible. Enjoy!

“You were out for almost two hours and you ‘forgot’ the cranberry sauce?” May exclaimed. 

“Sorry. It completely slipped my mind.” Peter sheepishly ran a hand through his hair. 

Too much had happened that evening - the fire rescue, Shocker’s almost-successful kidnapping attempt, the weird encounter with Deadpool, and emotional talk with Tony - that his original task had gotten lost in the sauce. 

“Sure it did.” Andy snorted, traipsing into the kitchen to join them, boyfriend close behind him. 

Peter tried very hard not to look at how his brother’s hair was now considerably more rumpled and how Wade’s arm was tightly wrapped around his waist. 

“Andy, you’re in no position to point fingers. I still remember the time you went out to buy milk but took a several-hour detour to the skate park. We ended up never seeing that milk.” May said admonishingly. 

“Hey, I told you the store was closed that day. It’s not my fault that I got... distracted with other stuff.” Andy pouted as Wade nuzzled into his shoulder. 

“Maybe if you weren’t always getting distracted by horniness, you could’ve helped. Just saying...” Em muttered pointedly.

“Give me a break. We all know Peter had more important things to do.”

“Oh?” May tilted her head to one side. “What could be more important than tracking down cranberry sauce for an amazingly important party?”

Andy shot Peter a knowing look. “Pete knows what I’m talking about.”

“Huh?” Peter said blankly.

“Your little secret _.” _

“Secret?” 

Andy scoffed. “Do you think we’re blind?” 

“I…” The hairs on the back of Peter’s neck prickled. “I’m not sure what you’re talking about.” 

Tony had gone still where he was standing by the sink, obviously caught in an internal debate whether to step in or not. Which definitely didn’t do anything for Peter’s increasing sense of unease.

“Jeez, I figured it out ages ago.” Andy rolled his eyes, despite Wade’s grabby hands running up and down his ribs. “It's so obvious that you’re-” 

“Did somebody say cranberry sauce?” A new voice interrupted. 

A man stood in the doorway, triumphantly holding aloft a jar of the elusive condiment.

Peter and Andy spun around, frowns turning to grins. “Tobey!”

“Babe!” Em’s eyes glowed. “Perfect timing as always.”

“Oh thank Thor, we have cranberry sauce after all. Dinner is saved. Isn’t that wonderful?” Tony took advantage of the distraction to leap in and hurry the conversation along.

“Hey, everyone. Sorry I’m late, I had to beat an old lady with a stick to get these.” Tobey smiled breathlessly, running a hand through his short hair. He fit the image of a stereotypical absent-minded professor, dressed in a neat albeit slightly shabby suit. His blue eyes twinkled, lending him an air of innocent dorkiness that made him seem much younger than his mid-thirties. 

“Don’t you worry, these chimichangas will be so tasty they’ll more than make up for the elder assault.” Wade beamed as he squeezed Andy happily.

Tobey came over to give Em a kiss, May a hug, a fistbump to Andy and Wade, a headruffle to Peter. 

“How’s it going, Peter? Who else do we have here-” Tobey’s blue eyes went huge as they landed on the new addition. “Oh my god, you’re Tony Stark!”

Tony put on his regular polite smile and stepped forward to greet him. Like Peter, Tobey seemed the type to wear his emotions on his sleeve; both of them unlike Andy, who hid his feelings behind a mask of coolness.

“Yes, I am he. Nice to meet-” It was Tony’s turn to do a double take as he realised he recognized the face in front of him. “Hey, I know you!”

“You do?” Tobey croaked. He looked torn between bewilderment and exhilaration.

Tony turned to Peter accusingly. “When you said your brother was ‘Tobey’, why didn’t you say he was  _ the _ Dr P. T. Parker? As in the leading expert on fusion?”

Peter rubbed his chin. “Um… oops?”

“Tony Stark knows who I am.” Tobey whispered, looking like all his nerdy scientist dreams had come true. “Tony Stark. Genius of our time. Pioneer of green arc reactor technology. Creator of a new element. Knows who I am.”

“Did you memorize his wiki page or something?” Peter said.

“He knows who I am.”

“We heard you the first time, tiger.” Em gave Tobey a confused look.

“Tony Stark knows who I am.”

Andy raised an eyebrow. “I think you broke him.”

“ _ Tony Iron Man Stark knows who I am. _ ”

“Of course I do. Your research into fusion technology is groundbreaking.” Tony firmly shook the stunned scientist’s hand. “Really, I should be the one honored to meet you.”

Tobey stared at their handshake like he was the one discovering a new element. “This is amazing. I read all your papers.”

“Likewise.” Tony responded. There weren’t many scientists who could make him pause for a second look: Bruce Banner was one, Selvig another. He definitely remembered the name Parker.

“I wish we’d met before- oh, I’m sorry, we have met before, haven’t we?” Tony stopped as Tobey broke into a coughing fit, feeling a stab of guilt. He attended so many events that it was simply not possible to remember every name and face, as arrogant as that made him sound. Fortunately Tobey didn’t seem to be a Killian-type who’d take offense.

“O- oh, no, no. It’s okay, I’m used to being forgotten.” Tobey babbled nervously, and he let out a too-fake chuckle. Much like his youngest brother, Tobey had an awful poker face.

“That’s not true.” Em tutted and gave his arm a squeeze. “Don’t sell yourself short.”

“I can’t help it, you try meeting one of your science idols in your home and see how calm you are!”

Tony studied Tobey carefully, trying to figure out what had seemed so familiar. “You sure we haven’t met before?”

“Sure I’m sure!” The terrified look crept back into Tobey’s eyes. Which confirmed Tony‘s hunch: he  _ had  _ met Tobey before… But where? 

He felt like a crucial clue was dancing right in front of his nose, tauntingly out of reach. 

“Anyway.” Tobey said quickly, before turning to the room with an expectant smile. “Who’s hungry?”

—

They didn’t need to be told twice. 

The seven of them squeezed around the Parkers’ table, perching themselves on an assortment of chairs, stools, and benches, before falling upon the dinner spread with gusto, and soon the air was filled with the clink of cutlery and laughter. The potatoes were creamy, the green bean casserole was delectable, the chimichangas a bomb of umami richness, May’s cider sat bubbling on the stove, a comforting promise of a post-dinner nightcap. 

It was unlike any Thanksgiving Tony had been to before. 

Best of all were how open and warm the Parkers were with each other, and how seamlessly they’d accepted Tony as part of the clan. Talk flowed easily, the people falling in and out of groups of mingling conversations as they traded jokes and stories from what they’d been up to the past year.

“How’s cousin P.B doing? I was a little worried because he turned down our invitation.” May asked with a touch of concern. “I hope he’s not spending Thanksgiving alone this year. He’s been feeling down ever since the separation, he took it really hard.”

Em looked up from her plate. “Oh, I’ve got some great news: P.B got a new job as a youth counselor!” 

“What? P.B’s teaching kids now?” Andy exclaimed. “He never struck me as the nurturing type. The only thing I could see him nurturing is an extra large pepperoni pizza.”

Peter kicked his brother’s chair leg. “Don’t be mean, that’s our cousin you’re slamming.”

“P.B seems to have a natural talent for mentorship. It’s doing his spirits a world of good; he sounded much happier the last time we spoke to him.” Tobey commented to May and Em as he dished potatoes for them. 

“He’s so proud of his mentees, he can’t stop talking about them! Miles, Gwen, and Penny seem like good kids. They all chipped in and got him a cake.” Em handed her phone around the table to share a wefie: it showed an older, sort of shlubby looking man with a huge smile, surrounded by a group of grinning teens. They were gathered around a table with a cake which had the words ‘Best Mentor Ever’ written on it in slightly crooked icing. 

“Aww. I’m so glad he’s doing better.” May smiled as she looked at the picture.

Em grinned, leaning to rest her chin with her hands. “I have it on good authority from Gwen that he burst into tears five seconds after this photo was taken.”

On the other end of the table, a different faceoff was taking place.

Tony regarded the fried roll sitting on his plate that he had yet to sample. The chimichanga was fried a rich golden brown, crimson sauce scribbled over the top. He poked the top with a fork. The chimichanga crust crunched invitingly. “I never knew Thanksgiving foods could be chimichanga-fied.” 

Peter saw his bewilderment and took pity. “That was my first reaction, too. It tastes better than it looks.”

“I’ll take your word for it.”

Tony sawed off a section, speared it, and popped it into his mouth. His eyes widened.

Every bite was an explosion of flavour: crisp tortilla skin gave way to juicy turkey and melted cheese, smooth sour cream, the smokiness of caramelized onions, and the tart spiciness of cranberry syrup cutting beautifully through all the richness.

“Wow.” Tony stared at his fork. “I just saw into another food universe.”

“See, I told you it’s good.” Andy said proudly. 

Eyes full of adoration, Wade gazed at his boyfriend with palpable hearts in his eyes. “Baby boy!” 

“This is amazing, Wade. Your cooking is always the best.” May said.

“Hand-fried and drizzled in a cranberry-and-jalapeno reduction!” Wade proclaimed proudly. “Sweet and salty. The best flavour combo.”

Andy clicked his tongue. “Sometimes. Salted caramel can stay, but pineapple and olive pizza is just  _ weird _ .” 

“Nobody does pizza like Feige’s Famous.” Wade said dreamily.

“You like that place?” May shook her head. “The pizzas are decent, but they keep coming up with three new flavours every year, it’s kinda excessive if you ask me…”

Tobey had a starstruck look in his eyes as he quizzed Tony and Peter about their work. In complete contrast to Andy’s too-cool-for-school attitude, Tobey had no reservations about hiding his awe. “It must be so cool to work with the Avengers! I’d give anything to meet Bruce Banner.” 

Now that was a party Tony wanted to crash as well. “He’d definitely be psyched to meet you, too. When he’s back on Earth again I’ll give you a call.”

Tobey’s mouth fell open and made a high-pitched sound that was definitely not a squee. “Bruce Banner. Wants to meet me?” He spun to face his wife excitedly. “Bruce Banner!”

“We hear you loud and clear, tiger.” Em with fond exasperation.

“Bruce Banner!”

“Did you break Tobey again?” Andy called from across the table. 

“You need to chill.” Peter said.

Tobey flushed. “I’m sorry, you probably get this a lot. I’m just… wow, it’s so unbelievably cool to meet scientists that I’ve only read about.” He gestured wildly, excitement ramping up again. “And they’re also superheroes! How are you so nonchalant about this?”

“Oh, it’s no big deal,” Peter quipped, before adding in a joking whisper. “Just kidding, it never really wears off.” 

“So have you met Captain America? What’s he like?” Tobey asked his youngest brother eagerly. 

“Uhhh,” Peter couldn’t very well say he’d been socked into an airplane by a guy who was maybe(?) a war criminal now. “I’m just an intern so I’m down in the lab most of the time.”

Tobey looked even more impressed. “Wow. You must get to play with all the state-of-the-art technology!”

“A little.” Peter rubbed the back of his neck bashfully.

“Peter’s done some impressive research into a project for high-tensile strength polymers. He’s one of the brightest interns I’ve ever taken on.” Tony couldn’t resist bragging, amused at how the praise made Peter’s ears go red. 

“My little brother is already changing the world.” Tobey shook his head, eyes shining with wonder. “Once you go to Columbia, you’re gonna do amazing things.”

Peter paused with a green bean hanging out of his mouth. “Who said I’m going to Columbia?”

“Well, it’s my alma mater and you’ll get no finer education than there.” Tobey said. “My mentors back in the day, Dr Connors and Dr Octavius, are some of the best minds around.”

Peter chewed slowly. “I’m not sure where I want to go to college…”

“Not to toot my own horn, but MIT is the place for STEM. Interested in biology and chemistry? Look no further.” Tony chimed in pointedly. “They’re always happy for bright young talent, and Peter fits the bill.”

“But it’s in  _ Boston!” _ Tobey sounded as scandalized as if Tony had said the school was in Mordor.

“So?” Tony said. “If you have the chance to live away from home, you should go for it.” 

“Yeah, anywhere but Boston!” Tobey protested.

“Uh…” Peter squeaked. He’d lost control of the conversation and it hurtled past him like an runaway train.

“College is for nerds.” Andy piped up. “Just be an entrepreneur. Do the startup thing.”

“In this economy?” Tobey looked horrified. 

“I did it, so it’s definitely possible.”

“Your experiences are not universal!”

“Peter, I’m familiar with MIT’s board of directors, it’d be no trouble to make the right introductions for you.”

Em leaned forward. “Don’t let these guys railroad you into doing what they think is best. Follow your own dreams.”

“Yes. Being your own boss is the dream.” Andy declared. “You don’t want to be another cog in the system, working for the man.”

“What are you talking about? You’re a CEO of a successful startup; you’ve  _ ecome _ the man, Mr Social Media Mogul!”

“...not to mention all the grants, scholarships, and research opportunities…” Tony continued.

Em continued. “You need to discover what you’re passionate about, then everything will fall into place…”

“ _ Boston! _ ”

Peter held his head in his hands. “Guys, can you not fight over my future yet? I’m not even halfway through highschool.” 

May squeezed him on the shoulder, and raised her voice gently but firmly. “Everybody, leave Peter alone.”

The table quietened. Tony and Tobey jerkily sat down from where they’d half-risen to standing, Em took an awkward sip of cider, Andy realised in his fervour to be heard he’d wriggled out of Wade’s embrace and quickly slipped back in.

“Sorry, didn’t mean to put pressure on you. That decision is years away, anyway.” Tony said sheepishly.

“Absolutely.” Tobey added. “Whatever you decide, everyone here will support you.”

“The truth is… I’ve been doing some of my own research, and...” Peter rubbed his chin with one hand. “ESU had some cool biochem courses, I was thinking of checking out one of their college fairs.”

“That’s a good idea, and very responsible.” May said reassuringly. “You should use this time to explore stuff that interests you.” 

“Movies.” Wade broke his uncharacteristically long silence. “There’s so much demand for serialized genre fiction, now that formerly niche interests have entered the mainstream. Just remember to hang on tight to your IPs and not sell them no matter how much the studios offer or you’re gonna wind up with legal headaches, gnarly canon discontinuity, and endless years of petty fandom infighting. That’s no way to build a cohesive cinematic universe.” Wade blinked guilelessly as everyone turned to stare at him. “What? I’m just saying!”

“...What are you talking about?” Tobey stared at him, mouth agape. 

Wade held up his hands, gesticulating animatedly. “Trust me, things may get off to a rocky start, but focus on being faithful to the source media while adding small innovations- but not too much! Don’t listen to the studio execs, no matter how clever and edgy they think it’ll be to sew a popular character’s mouth shut. As long as you don’t compromise on quality or in-universe continuity, I guarantee you’ll get that multi-billion dollar payoff in 11 years.”

Silence fell over the table.

“That’s… an oddly specific set of scenarios.” May said after recovering her voice.

“How many zeroes are in a billion?” Em asked quietly. 

“Nine.” Peter whispered back. Em made a mildly impressed face.

Andy let out a long-suffering sigh. “Wade, we talked about this. No scaring people at parties with your weirdass alternate universe fanfiction!”

“It’s not fanfiction! I know things!” Wade said earnestly. “And I even ship us!”

“I should hope so,  _ considering we’re already dating. _ ” Andy looked on the verge of a truly pounding headache as he addressed the baffled table. “Wade’s really into parallel universes. I swear to Thor he’s even got whole butterfly effect-type timelines mapped out.”

Wade was about to make further protests but was shut up with a furious kiss before he could say anymore.

“So, yeah…anyway.” Leaving aside  _ that _ weird conversation (and trying to ignore the vigorous smooching going on), Peter continued. “I’ve actually been getting kinda interested in photography. And journalism. That kinda stuff.” 

“Ooh, artsy!” Em said excitedly. “You should show us some of your shots!”

Peter shook his head, ran a hand through his hair awkwardly. “I’m just playing around, it’s nothing special. I haven’t even posted anything.”

Tony nodded. “Know what, I’ll talk to SI’s digital marketing department. They have their own internship program and you’ll get all the hands-on opportunities you want.”

“Mr Stark!” Peter threw up his hands in exasperation. “You can’t keep giving me stuff!”

“Sure I can. I’m happy to help you get work experience, even if it is for making memes.” Tony said smugly, ignoring Peter’s disgruntled muttering (“Marketing isn’t just about memes.”). “And might I add that it would be a  _ paid _ internship.”

Andy raised a finger. “I have to agree with Tony on this one. Why not give it a shot? Do you think you’d get a paid internship from The Daily Bugle?”

Tobey rubbed his forehead tiredly. “Ugh, horrible memories. Remember my first job? Freelance photographer for the Bugle.”

Andy nodded in sympathy. “They paid you in experience and everything.”

Tobey wrinkled his nose. “It sucked. Don’t work for the Bugle, Pete.”

“They've been a trashy paper for years, and it’s still the same even when they went online.” Em added her voice to the support. “Now all they make is clickbait, conspiracy theories, and dumb listicles. ‘Ten Hamsters that look like Thor, Number 5 will surprise you’ kind of thing.”

Tony turned to the next person at the table. “As the resident Broadway star, I’m sure you have a lot of advice about following your dreams.” 

“Like how it’s insanely difficult, makes you deal with rejection every day, kinda makes me want to scream, but there’s nothing I’d rather be doing?” Em replied with a graceful tilt of her head. “I’ve wanted to be on stage since I was a little girl. It wasn’t easy, but things slowly worked out and here I am.” 

Tobey took Em’s hand excitedly. “She’s phenomenal! You should hear her sing, she’s got the voice of an angel.”

“Stop it.” Em swatted her husband’s arm affectionately.

“It’s true! I cried like a baby when you sang ‘ _ I Dreamed A Dream.’ _ ” Tobey said adoringly.

“It’s true, I held him as he cried.” May agreed.

“Can confirm, he got snot all over the bouquet.” Peter grinned, before adding with sincerity. “Em is being way too modest. Her singing is awesome.”

Em giggled and twined her fingers with Tobey’s. “Thank you. It helps that I have the best cheer team.”

“Always.” Tobey whispered, gazing into her eyes.

“You guys are so cute it’s disgusting.” Andy said snidely, seemingly unaware of how everybody was pointedly ignoring the fact that he was practically snuggling in Wade’s lap.

“Tell you a secret,” Em’s eyes lit up with excitement. “I’m auditioning for Elsa in next season’s run of Frozen. I made it through the first cut, here’s to hoping I get through to the next round.”

“Oooh, I love that movie!” Wade clapped his hands and burst into song. “ _ Do you wanna build a snowman… _ ” 

Andy jabbed an elbow into Wade’s side. “We agreed you were banned from singing that around me. God, I can’t bring you anywhere...”

“What’s wrong with Frozen?” Peter questioned, frowning.

“I’m not saying there’s anything  _ wrong _ with it, per se…”

“ _...I never see you anymore, come out the door, it’s like you’ve gone awaaayy…” _

“I can’t believe you hate princesses.” Peter sounded more and more outraged. 

“I don’t. Hate princesses.” 

“Because you are one?” Tobey chipped in. Peter reached over the table to give him a high five.

“Shut up.” Andy said through gritted teeth. “I’ve been forced to listen to Wade warbling those songs at top volume, twenty four hours a day, every day, since the movie came out.”

“Oof.” Peter winced. “And Wade can’t sing as well as Em.” 

“Nobody can.” Tobey was still gazing at Em adoringly. “You’ll look amazing as a blonde, too.”

Em whispered conspiratorially. “Funny that you mention that; there’s me, a redhead auditioning for Elsa and the girl auditioning for Anna is a blonde…”

_ “We used to be best buddies-  _ mmf!” Wade started as Andy shoved a chimichanga into his mouth to silence him. Despite, or maybe because his mouth was wrapped around the length of food, Wade fluttered his eyes at his boyfriend suggestively.

Peter made a gagging sound. “Why do you guys always have to make it weird?”

May drummed her knuckles on the table. “Boys, not at dinner! Don’t make me get the spray bottle again.”

Wade winked at Andy, biting off and swallowing the food in his mouth. 

Andy rolled his eyes, before turning to his sister-in-law. “Since we’re on the subject, there’s been a question on my mind for the longest time. Em, you’re an insider; can you give us the inside scoop on the Spider-Man musical?”

Tony dropped his fork with a clatter. “There’s a Spider-Man musical?” 

“Unfortunately.” Peter said heavily. “It was on Broadway for a few months before dying an ignominious death.”

“And I missed it?” Tony racked his brain, trying to remember what he had been doing over the last year. Upgrade Avengers tech? Check. Research alien defence? Check. Upgrade Avengers tech? Check…

_ Hm, figures. No wonder I missed it. _

Andy snorted. “You’re not missing anything, it’s the worst. Those clowns have no idea what they’re doing.”

“I have to agree. So many stunt guys were injured. Poor dudes.” May shook her head sympathetically.

“And those costumes, ugh! Do nothing for their asses...” Wade scoffed, then catching sight of Andy’s disapproving frown, quickly added. “Of course, yours is the most bootylicious of all!”

“If the real Spider-Man saw that musical, I bet he’d be appalled!” Tobey said emphatically.

Peter took a nervous bite of food and did his best impression of the invisible woman.

“You guys are so nitpicky! They’re trying their best.” Em said chastisingly. “Spidey has superpowers, so obviously, stuff that’s easy for him would be near impossible for us mere mortals.”

Andy leaned on Peter’s chair. “Do you think Spider-Man would enjoy the musical about him?”

Peter kept sweating bullets. “Uh… shouldn’t Spider-Man be getting paid since they’re, like, using his likeness? A-and I don’t think they even asked him permission! Can’t he sue them?”

“That’s a good point.” Tony said grimly. “I’m gonna have a talk with the Avengers’ legal team after tonight.”

“R-right!” Peter nodded, perhaps a bit too emphatically. “I don’t think Spidey  _ hates _ that there’s a musical about him, he’d... probably just want the cast to stay safe and uninjured? A-and I’m sure he wouldn’t say no to some of the royalties.” he added quickly. 

Andy narrowed his eyes at Peter. Peter stared back unflinchingly. Andy shook his head and rocked his chair back on its two legs as if to say I-know-what-you’re-doing-but-I’ll-let-it-go-for-now. 

Em sighed and folded her arms. “You’re so judgemental, Andy. These actors put a lot of work into their craft. If you did it for a day you’d understand.”

“As if. You’d never catch me swinging around in a pair of tights.” Andy muttered. Behind his back, Wade pouted in disappointment.

“That’d be a laugh. Imagine Andy riverdancing around the stage.” Tobey laughed, shuffling his shoulders and doing jazz hands amidst the chorus of groans and ‘no not my eyes’. He caught Tony’s eye and seemed to freeze up mid hand jive.

There it was again; throughout dinner, Tony had noticed that Tobey would occasionally get that deer-in-the-headlights look every time their gazes met. Tony was used to not taking it personally when people became awkward and starstruck around him, but this didn’t seem to be a case of fanboyism. 

_ Curiouser and curiouser. Wonder what’s got him so on edge around me. _ Tony filed away his observations for Future Tony to ponder. Present Tony’s priority was to stay in the moment and have fun with his friends.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope everyone is staying healthy and positive! Looks like I might MIGHT actually have stuff in time for thanksgiving after all :0
> 
> Don’t ask me about the logistics of the party because I don’t want to think about it. Also don’t ask me why this fic keeps getting longer and longer when there isn’t even a plot all i have are silly conversations  
> How many references could you find?


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To all of you board game fans, Secret Wars is basically Avalon with MCU characters. I loved playing Avalon with my irl board game friends back when we could congregate in groups of 10 ;w;
> 
> To those who aren’t board game fans; I tried to make the game explanation as concise as possible so that it wouldn’t confuse newbies.

_ Aah, food coma. _

Peter slumped back in his chair with a happy sigh. Even with his enhanced metabolism requiring more fuel, it had been a while since he’d been able to just eat to his heart’s content. It didn’t help that everyone kept slipping extra food onto his plate (“you should eat more, you’re still growing…”, “yeah, maybe then you won’t be so tiny…”, “this is the best part, have some...”). Now, he was feeling pleasantly sleepy and full.

“Hey, wake up.” Andy nudged him with his foot. “Board game time?”

“Oh right!” Peter perked up immediately. He’d almost forgotten their after-dinner tradition of trying to destroy each other through board games.

“What are we doing? Charades? Monopoly? Minewatch or whatever you kids are playing these days?” Tony asked.

“Those are old people games.” Andy grinned. “Let's play Secret Wars!”

Em pumped the air with a fist. “Yes! Haven’t played that in years.”

“What's Secret Wars?” Tony asked, which was the cue for everyone to start shouting explanations. 

“The funnest game ever!” 

“It’s a social deduction game, where…”

“You lie, you lose! Or win, depending how you lie!”

“Guys, one at a time.” Tobey held up his hands, trying to calm the crowd like a harried bus conductor. Tobey began explaining the rules as the others set up the gamepieces with the efficiency of long practice.

From what Tony gathered, Secret Wars seemed to be an Avengers-themed social deduction game. Tony wasn’t wholly unfamiliar with the concept; he and Rhodey had attended a couple of MIT’s board game parties and played many drunken games of Werewolf.

“Everyone gets assigned a secret identity. You’re either an Avenger... ” Tobey held up a card with an A logo emblazoned on it. “Or Hydra.” He held up a card with the red octopus skull logo. “Since there are six of us, that’d be four avengers versus two Hydra members.”

“Not that I’m complaining, but that seems drastically tipped in favour of the Avengers.” Tony remarked. 

Tobey grinned. “You’d think, right? But Hydra has the advantage of knowing who each other are. The Avengers team are all pretty much in the dark.”

“I see.” Tony had a feeling Nat would be good at this type of game. “What’s our objective?

“So, there are five missions in the game. If a mission succeeds, Avengers get one point. If it fails, Hydra gets one point. Team with the most points wins.”

“Here’s where it gets tricky: every round, one person gets to be Team Leader,” Peter held up a metal figurine of the Avengers ‘A’. “This is the leadership badge. Whoever is the Team Leader is responsible for assembling a team to take on a mission.” 

“But since we live in a democracy, everybody - yeah, even Hydra - gets to vote. You can either Upvote if you agree with the team lineup, or Downvote if you think it’s sus.” Andy explained. “If the majority votes against the lineup, it’s rejected and the person next to them gets to be Team Leader.”

“If you’re an Avenger, you want to try and get a team full of Avengers. And if you’re Hydra; you have to fool the Avengers picking you for the team so you can sabotage the mission.” Em added. “That’s why it’s important to figure out quickly who’s good and who’s bad, so you can build the best possible team.” 

“You have to outwit, outplay, and outlast the other team, all while keeping your identity secret!” Peter said.

“The fun part is that within each team there are different roles, like Captain America, Black Widow, Red Skull, and-” Andy gestured. “Your very own self, Iron Man.” 

“Oh? Am I any good?” Tony asked grinningly. 

“Depends. Some characters receive extra information as an advantage, but that doesn’t always mean you’ll win. Everything depends on your bluffing skills. If your poker face sucks, it doesn’t matter what character you get.” Andy picked up the deck. “But we can get into all the unique characters later. Right now let’s warm up with basic mode: just Captain America and Red Skull as the special roles.”

“It sounds kinda complicated, but once you start playing you’ll get the idea.” Tobey looked a little self conscious, possibly to do with how nerdy the game was. 

Peter pffed. “Mr Stark’s a genius, I think he can keep up.”

Andy nudged his boyfriend. “Wade, could you be the moderator? You always make it fun.” 

“It would be my honor, baby boy!” Wade kissed his boyfriend’s cheek. He scooped up the character cards and dealt with all the pizazz of a nightclub croupier. “Okay, everyone take a peek at your super-secret identity!”

Tony opened his card. He couldn't help a wry smile at the familiar face looking back at him - Captain America.

“Alright, people! Let’s get this show going!” Wade announced, putting his most hyperactive hype man skills to use. “Welcome to Secret Wars, Avengers amigos and Hydra hombres! Everybody close your eyes for the role assignment phase.”

Everyone shut their eyes. 

“Hello everyone, this is your lovely moderator speaking.” Wade pitched his voice low and husky like he was a flight attendant reading out safety procedures. “Will the two members of Hydra, Hydra Agent and Red Skull, please open their eyes and acknowledge each other?”

Ten seconds passed. Somebody let out a quiet snort. Chairs creaked. Feet shuffled. 

“Thank you, Hydra peeps. Please close your eyes and resume plotting your evil schemes. Next, I would like to call upon...” Wade paused, and gasped in glee. “The noble Captain America! Whoever has the Cap role, please open your eyes.”

Tony opened his eyes. 

Wade caught his gaze, and nodded to acknowledge him. “Thank you, Cap. You are now about to learn the identity of one Hydra member. Will the Hydra Agent please give us a thumbs-up so we can see who you are?”

Tobey lifted his thumb without opening his eyes, identifying himself as the Hydra Agent.

“As I said, Cap will learn the identity of one Hydra Agent, which means the nefarious Red Skull is still out there… hiding… watching… plotting.” Wade checked to ensure Tony had taken note before continuing with the script. “Thank you, kindly. Captain America, go back to sleep - just for a few moments, try not to fall asleep for another 70 years. Hydra Agent, you can put down your thumb as well.”

A few seconds ticked by, before the silence was abruptly punctured by Wade screaming like an emergency siren. “ _ WEE-ooh, WEE-oh!  _ Wakey, wakey! Earth is under attack!”

Everyone opened their eyes, some blinking blearily in the light. Tony kept an eye on Tobey without trying to make it too obvious he was staring; the Parker brother had a perfectly innocent expression, giving no indication of being evil at all.

Wade picked up a coaster and held it up to his eye like an eyepatch, putting on a raspy drill-sergeant voice. “Attention, motherfathers, this is the director of SHIELD speaking. I have missions for you and I need them done yesterday.” He picked up the leadership badge and handed it to May. “You’re team captain for the first mission. Assemble a team of two people.”

“Yay!” May cheered. She scanned the table with narrowed eyes, trying to decide who to trust. “Who should I bring with me…?”

Peter waved a hand excitedly. “Me, me, pick me!”

“Don’t pick him, pick me!” Andy tried to push his younger brother’s head down.

“Are you really going to trust either of those troublemakers over me?” Tobey appealed to his aunt, all watery blue eyes and slightly hurt demeanor.

May kept one token for herself and handed the other to Tobey, ignoring the groans from the other brothers. “I nominate myself and Tobey.”

Tony lurched forward, slamming his hands on the table. “Don’t pick him, he’s Hydra!” 

“I am not!” Tobey fired back. “How do I know you’re not Hydra and you’re trying to frame me?”

Peter gave his mentor a quizzical glance. “Do you know something, Mr Stark?”

“I…” Tony stopped himself, realizing he couldn’t share his knowledge without also revealing he was Captain America. “You’re just gonna have to trust me.”

Andy rolled his eyes. “Well, that’s convincing.” 

Peter chewed the inside of his cheek. “I think Mr Stark is telling the truth.”

“How do  _ you _ know?” Tobey asked.

Peter had a small smile on his face. “I dunno… just a tingle.”

“Maybe they’re both Hydra, and this fight is just an act to confuse us.” Em murmured.

“Yeah, they both sound pretty sus.” Andy whispered back.

Wade rapped his knuckles on the table. “Enough debating. Everyone cast your votes whether you approve of the team containing May and Tobey.”

Wade collected all the voting tokens, sweeping them to the middle of the table. Everyone leaned closer to see the results. Tony groaned at the outcome; the majority of the table had voted to approve the team. The only people who had downvoted the team was him and Peter.

Wade nodded as he tallied up the votes. “Al-righty! Since a majority agreed, May and Tobey will go on the mission.”

“So now we engage in the next phase: secret voting.” May explained as she and Tobey each picked up a pair of cards with ‘Mission’ marked on the back.

“Remember, Avengers win one point if the mission succeeds,” Tobey held up a Mission card with a blue Avengers logo with the word ‘Success’ on it. “But Hydra wins one point if the mission fails.” He held up the other card which had ‘FAIL’ written in huge red letters.

“Thank you, team, I’ll take those votes now.” Wade collected a Mission card from May and Tobey, and shuffled them under the table. “Two little Avengers went off on a mission, two little Avengers came back… was the mission a success?”

Tony snorted. “Unlikely. Not with that Hydra snake on the team.”

“You’re just bitter you didn’t get to go.” Andy quipped.

“And! Here! Are! The! Results!” Wade dramatically swung his arm, slapping down the two cards like he was the protagonist of a card game anime.

Two blue Success cards lay on the table.

“Wow-ee! Success!” Wade crowed. “One point to the Avengers!” 

“Go us!” May whooped.

“See? Told you I was clean.” Tobey reached over to give his aunt a high-five.

_ That lying piece of…  _ Tony narrowed his eyes at Tobey. He was hiding in plain sight and nobody believed him.

“Mission two!” Wade picked up the leader’s badge and turned to the person next to May. “The lovely Em is our next mission Leader.” He gave a tiny bow to her. “Would you please choose three people for your team? The Avengers are being called to take down… hm, let’s say, Whiplash.”

“You know I've kicked that guy’s ass in real life?” Tony grumbled. 

“Really, now? Well, in that case...” Em’s green eyes twinkled merrily as she handed out the figurines. “I’m picking me, Tony, and Tobey.

Tony covered his face with a hand. “Appreciate the sentiment, but this is a bad idea.”

“Why?” Em asked.

“Your husband is Hydra!” Tony said emphatically.

Andy squinted. “Is he, though?”

“That’s a bold accusation.” Em hummed. ”The first mission was a success, so that’s a pretty good indication May and Tobey are safe.”

“That’s what he wants you to think!” Tony argued back. He was getting a sense of deja vu; being distrusted despite being the only one who knew what was going on. At least this wasn’t another life or death situation.

“Yeah, the first mission usually succeeds anyway. Hydra is always trying to ingratiate themselves with the Avengers.” May commented, tapping a thoughtful finger on her chin.

“I mean… it’s kinda sus that Tony doesn’t want to be on the team. Shouldn’t an Avenger jump at any chance to go on a mission?” Tobey added. Tony glared at him.  _ Oh, he’s good. _

“Enough talk. Voting time.” Wade reminded everyone. “Aaaaaand, it looks like the majority voted for the mission to proceed!” Once again, Tony and Peter had voted against, everyone else had approved the tainted mission.

“Seriously?” Tony threw his hands up. “Is this what passes for democracy now?” 

May snorted. “Why are you surprised? Have you  _ seen _ the news lately?” 

“We need to respect the democratic process. This is what the people want.” Em nodded sagely.

“The system is so broken.” Tony huffed. Peter patted him on the shoulder sympathetically. “If it fails, this is your fault.” Tony said venomously to Tobey.

Tobey wore an expression that could only be described as angelic. “Whatever you say, Red Skull.”

Wade once again collected three cards from the mission-goers, savouring every iota of his role as moderator. “Three little Avengers went on a mission, three little Avengers came back… what do we have here?” He slapped down three cards on the table.

Two Successes. One Fail.

Wade gave a small squeal. “We have a snake in our ranks! But whomst?”

Full of righteous fury, Tony pointed at Tobey. “I told you it was him!”

Unperturbed, Tobey pointed right back. “You’ve been acting sus from the start! It’s clear that the Hydra Agent is you!”

May held her head in her hands. “I’m so confused.”

Em patted her on the back. “One of them is most definitely lying.”

“Yeah. Tony seems real sus.” Andy chimed in. “I know who I’m  _ not _ picking for my mission.”

“What?!” Tony couldn’t believe how quickly the tables had been turned on him. “I’m being framed!”

“This is what Secret Wars is all about!!” Peter’s grin widened. “Isn’t it fun, Mr Stark?”

It  _ was _ fun, Tony realised. It’d been a while since he’d had so many people to banter with, and the rapid back-and-forth had ignited his competitive streak. 

Tony locked his gaze on Tobey, determined not to let the elder Parker brother win. “I’m gonna expose you, sir.”

Tobey smiled beatifically. “Bring it.”

—

Several games later, Tony had to admit he'd seen supervillain brawls less bloody than a round of Secret Wars. Alliances were forged, broken, and remade in the flip of a card. Taunts and trash-talking flew faster than bullets. Backstabbings took place left, right, and centre, with many a dismayed cry as teammates believed trustworthy turned out to be traitors. 

He was right about one thing; Natasha would absolutely  _ kill it _ at this game.

Tony’s throat was slightly hoarse from laughter and cheering as he and May settled back to watch an increasingly dramatic argument between the three brothers.

“Pete, would your brother lie to you?” Andy fluttered his eyes with his most innocent expression.

Peter snorted. “This brother, can, has, and does continue to lie to me.”

Andy pouted. “Name an occasion I’ve lied to you.”

“Only every day of my life!” 

Tobey whistled. “Harsh.” 

“Okay, everyone stop yelling at each other! I’m gonna count to three and I want you to tell me who’s lying!” May called out. “One, two, three-“

Peter, Andy, and Tobey all simultaneously pointed at each other.

“Arrgh!” May buried her face in the table. “That doesn’t help me at all - How am I supposed to know who to pick!”

“Pick me, I’m baby.” Peter chirped.

“Pick me, I’m your favourite.” Tobey wheedled.

“Pick me, I’ll make sure the moderator draws all Victory cards.” Andy blew a kiss to Wade, who caught it with a giggle as Tobey yelled back, “No flirting with the moderator!”

After a few rounds, Tony felt he had a pretty good grasp on the game tactics: winning required logical deduction, being able to tell bald-faced lies, as well as the ability to read people. 

Each of them had a different play style: Tony preferred using statistics to logic his way to conclusions; Tobey took full advantage of his big blue eyes to tell the most blatant lies; Em opted for a more investigative approach by methodically vetting people; Andy threw around random accusations to see who cracked under the stress; and May just went with the flow, gleefully soaking up the chaos.

The most surprising thing Tony discovered was that Peter, of all people, was able to detect lies with an accuracy bordering on supernatural. No matter how solid the lie, how good the poker face, how impassioned the pleas, or attempts at psychological warfare, Peter would unerringly sense the truth.

_ Huh. Perhaps the spidey tingle has more than one function.  _ Tony thought with a flicker of pride.

Perhaps Peter’s lie-detection could turn things to their favor: they were on their final game of the night, and by some quirk of fate, Tony had drawn the Captain America card again.

With the Avengers and Hydra tied 2-2, this last mission was critical. Tony  _ had  _ to get himself on this mission for the Avengers to win.

“I have been on every successful mission so far, whereas every mission Mr Stark joined has failed!” Andy continued his speech, laying out each point with cool logic and reasoning. “With a track record like that, there's no way he can be Avenger!”

Tony gritted his teeth. Playing as Cap was tricky because it required a stealthy approach, while trying to subtly influence voting outcomes. But playing things close to the vest often allowed Hydra to step up and control the narrative; indeed, Hydra had run an effective smear campaign against him.

“I know this looks bad, but you gotta believe me.” Tony pleaded. “Your brother is Hydra.”

Andy shook his head grimly. “Don’t believe a word he says.”

Peter watched them with an intent look on his face. His head tilted slightly to one side as if listening to some invisible message. 

Tony gripped the edge of the table.  _ Come on, kid, put that spidey sense to work. _

The rest of the table watched the standoff, eyes wide in wonder. The tension in the room was so thick it could be shattered. 

Then, Peter spoke. “I’m picking Mr Stark.”

Tony grinned.  _ Victory. _

Andy looked scandalized. “Pete, no!”

“I did… not expect that.” May raised an eyebrow.

“You sure about this?” Em asked skeptically.

“I know what I’m doing.” A smile curled across Peter’s face, confident and sure. “For my team, I’m picking: Me, May, and Mr Stark.”

“Off on a mission go our three little Avengers. Or are they?!” Wade announced. “Will the mission be a success? Or will Hydra send it crashing into the Potomac?”

“We get the idea, just get on with it.” Tobey muttered.

Wade whistled as he collected the Mission voting cards from the team members, and shuffled them dramatically. With a flourish, he slapped each one down on the table in turn. “Here! We! Go~!”

Slap. “Success.”

Slap. “Success.”

All eyes were on the final card. Wade slowed his movements, milking the moment for all its dramatic effect, slamming the card onto the table with a resounding thud. He slid back his palm to reveal the result.

A cheer rose from the group, people exchanging high fives and drumming their hands on the table. 

“Success! Avengers win 3-2!” Wade cheered. “The time for truth has come: everyone reveal your roles!”

May and Tobey turned over their cards to reveal they were both Avengers. “Turns out we had the easy job of being innocent bystanders.”

“Yes!” Tobey chirped and leaped to his feet, breaking into a victory dance. “We won, we won!”

“Good game! It was a really close fight.” Em held up her Red Skull card. “We’re a pretty good team, don’t you think, Andy?”

“Ugh,” Andy groaned and flipped his card to reveal Captain Hydra. “And we would’ve gotten away with it if it wasn’t for that meddling kid.” 

“Who were you, Pete?” Tony asked as he revealed his Captain America card.

“Iron Man.” Peter held up his card, trying not to look too pleased with himself and failing. “I know either Andy or Mr Stark was Cap, but I was trying to figure out which was which. Didn’t figure it out until that last mission.”

“How did you know?” Andy grumbled. “My smear job was perfect! I made sure Tony looked guilty so nobody would pick him!”

Peter’s grin twitched. “You can't trick me.”

“How did you get so good at this game? You used to have a tough time recognizing when people were bluffing.” Em asked.

“Yeah, what’s your secret? Listening to my heartbeat to check for lies?” Andy demanded.

“That’s dumb, nobody can do that.” Peter scoffed. Tony opened his mouth to say something, then after some thought, closed it again.

“Maybe he has a sixth sense. Do you see Bruce Willis?” May asked jokingly.

“No,” Peter coughed loudly. “It’s pretty easy because Andy has a million tells.”

Andy puffed up indignantly. “Excuse you, but my poker face is perfect. I’m like a locked safe.” 

Wade’s arms came around him. “I’ll poke your face, baby boy...”

“We won, we won…” Tobey was still victory-dancing around the table, and he’d gone from shuffling to jabbing his finger in the air Saturday Night Fever style. 

It was like a light bulb turned on in Tony’s brain, as the image seared into his vision, retrieving an almost-forgotten memory from deep within the storage banks of Tony’s mind. 

Tony jolted to his feet. “You!”

Tobey froze, fingers in the air mid-jab. “Me?”

“I know you!” Tony said triumphantly.

Tobey blinked, letting a nervous laugh out as he glanced around the room. “Um, we all spent half the evening at the same party?” 

“Are you feeling okay, Mr Stark?” Peter tugged his sleeve, a little concernedly. “You’re not  _ that _ old.”

“Peter, don’t be rude.” May shushed him.

“Something about you about you seemed familiar and it’s been bugging me all night.” Tony rounded the table, sense of sureness growing with every step he took. “It all started coming back to me when you started dancing.”

“What are you talking about?” Tobey’s post-victory smugness had started to slide off his face to be replaced by a deer in the headlights look. Amidst the terror in his eyes was a hint of pleading, beseeching Tony not to reveal his secret.

Tony smirked. “Pittsburgh, 2007.”

Abject horror spread over Tobey’s face. 

“What’s he talking about?” Em asked, frowning. 

“Nothing!” Tobey’s voice came out high-pitched.

“You can’t outrun the past.” Pitiless, Tony drove in the next nail in his coffin. “Physics convention. Four Seasons hotel. Grand ballroom”

Tobey’s hands flew to his temples. “No, no, no! I thought I buried that!” 

“Who did you bury? Maybe I know them.” Wade asked eagerly.

“Babe?!’” Em was starting to look concerned.

Tobey shook his head, panicked. “No! I didn’t do anything! Nobody died!”

“Sounds like something a person trying to cover up a murder would say.” Andy said skeptically.

“Aw, Tobey, am I gonna have to turn you in? We haven’t even had any cider yet.” May said sadly.

“Now Thanksgiving is _ ruined. _ ” Peter said mournfully. “But we’ll still visit you every week in jail, I guess.” 

“Okay, just so we’re clear,  _ I did not kill anyone.”  _ Tobey’s voice had taken on a shrill edge.

“Then tell us what happened in 07!” Andy demanded. 

“We wanna know! We wanna know!” Wade chanted.

“2007…” Em tilted her head to gaze at the ceiling, green eyes thoughtful. “That was the year we were on a break, wasn’t it?”

Tobey nodded sadly, hand reaching over to hold hers. “Yes. It was the worst year of my life...”

Em's eyes glittered. "Tiger..."  


“Hey! Don’t change the subject.” Andy smacked the table with his fist. “I demand to know!” 

“We have rights!” Peter added his voice to Wade’s chanting. “Sto-ry! Sto-ry!”

“Sto-ry! Sto-ry! Sto-ry!” Wade cried out, thumping his fists on the table in time to the words. "Nobody needs to hear this." Tobey said desperately. 

_ “Sto-ry, sto-ry, story!”  _ Everybody chanted, like a bunch of kindergarteners demanding their teacher put on cartoons.  


"As your family, I think this is the least we deserve." May said firmly.

“Please let the past die, along with everything bad in the 00s.” Tobey turned to Em with the most piteous expression he could muster, big blue eyes begging for any last scrap of sympathy. 

The chants fell silent, and the room watched her with bated breath. If there was anyone who could put an end to this, it was Em.

Em smiled and patted him on the cheek. “Sorry, tiger. I invoke my wife powers to hear the truth.”

Tobey let out a sound like a dying camel, slumping over the table.

“Yay! Storytime!” Peter cheered. “Give us the tea, Mr Stark!”

Storytelling was what Tony was best at. He settled smoothly into presenter mode, revving up the classic Stark flair for showmanship. “Listen up, I'm gonna tell you about the time your brother gave the entire scientific community a night to remember...”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The house of cards is collapsing…. :3
> 
> I actually wrote this scene last year, but I was hesitant about including it because social deduction games are kinda niche and I wasn’t sure people would be interested in a fic where characters play Avalon. But thanks to the popularity of Among Us bringing social deduction games into the mainstream, I feel less worried that people won’t get it
> 
> Fun fanfic trivia: I made a discord server to play Secret Wars with friends, and it’s turned into a fun little group of peeps. We still hang out to play games together. This is dedicated to you guys <3
> 
> Here’s what the roles correspond to:  
> Merlin - Captain America  
> Percival - Iron Man  
> Morgana - Captain America  
> Mordred - Red Skull  
> Servant of Merlin - Avenger  
> Servant of Mordred - Hydra


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Thanksgiving to my US readers! Hope you are all staying safe and clean, and that this extra-long update brings some cheer. Enjoy this cornucopia of crackyness, this is the reveal you’ve been waiting for!

“Listen up, I'm gonna tell you about the time your brother gave the entire scientific community a night to remember...”

“Why do you have to make it sound like I was a stripper?” Tobey complained. Peter and Andy shushed him impatiently.

Tony held up his arms to set the scene. "Cast your minds back to the year 2007: everyone’s got frosted tips and are wearing baggy jeans. Mobile phones aren’t smart. Social media as we know it doesn’t exist.” 

“How did people  _ live _ like that?” Peter whispered in horror.

“It was a dark time.” Andy shivered.

“So I’m in Pittsburgh for the national physics conference.” Tony paused. Most of his pre-Iron Man days consisted of getting wasted, high, or falling into bed with someone - usually all at the same time. At least that explained why he had trouble remembering the Tobey incident; if he recalled correctly, after that day was over, he had called his private jet and headed to Vegas... 

_ Okay, don’t get distracted.  _ Tony cleared his throat; his embarrassing past wasn’t the one on display tonight. “Your brother is getting ready to present his thesis on fusion. Which, if I might add, was extremely well-researched.” Tony tipped his head to Tobey.

“Thanks, butter me up right before you throw me into the fire...” Tobey muttered weakly.

Tony ignored him. “Everyone is in the ballroom, watching the stage, waiting for Dr Parker to step out. Well, it turned out to be more of a stagger.”

“I think I made it to the podium just fine!” Tobey groused.

“You were more jittery than a jitterbug on ten cups of espresso.”

“I was nervous, alright? I’d never been to a conference before!” Tobey burst out. “My mentor, Dr Octavius, was supposed to go with me but he had a family emergency and had to drop out. I was all alone- I didn’t know anyone… I know what to do...” 

“Poor baby.” Em said playfully.

“One brilliant budding scientist, all alone in a hotel surrounded by other brilliant scientists. What was he to do?” Tony said dramatically. “Tobey here decided he needed some liquid courage to calm his nerves."

Em looked shocked. “Tiger!”

“It’s not as bad as it sounds, sweetie!” Tobey protested, quickly holding his hands up. “I’m bad at presentations, you all know this! I get terrible stage fright!”

“But turning to drink?” May questioned.

“I didn’t know what else to do! I couldn’t back out because if I did they’d have given my spot to Quentin Beck, and he’s a huge jerk.” Tobey squeezed his eyes shut, sucked in a deep breath. “Look, we’re all adults here. There's nothing wrong with a beer or two....”

“Judging by the way you were walking, I’d say you had way more than two.” Tony chipped in.

“Maybe it was six, seven, eight beers? Some kind of iced tea… a couple of those fruity things with the umbrellas...” Tobey muttered, trying not to shrink under the baleful gaze of his wife. “I don’t know, the hotel bar kept filling up my glass!”

“Tobey got drunk off his ass in public?!” Andy exclaimed. He pointed an accusing finger across the table. “You big hypocrite, you gave me that longass lecture for hiding beer in my dorm when you visited me freshman year!”

“Do as I say, not I do.” Tobey’s face was full of long-suffering regret.

“Oh, this is getting good.” May looked like she was having the time of her life.

Tony continued. “So picture this: you have a ballroom full of stuffy old physicists -the exception being me, of course- waiting for your brother to present his paper. The emcee announces your brother, Tobey goes out onto the stage, looking like he’s about to throw up, and...” Tony paused for dramatic effect. “Begins to dance.”

“WHAT?!” Peter, Andy, May, Em, and Wade yelled. As one, their eyes swung to Tobey, trying to imagine the buttoned-up, shy, responsible Parker brother making a public spectacle of himself. 

Tobey flailed his arms as if trying to sweep away the awful truth. “Okay, I got drunk and did some dumb stuff. Haha, hilarious, I know. Can we move on?”

“Move on?” Tony’s grin turned wolfish. “I’ve only just begun.”

“Dare I ask...” Em’s green eyes gleamed as she turned to Tony. “Surely a scientist on the cutting edge of technology, such as yourself, would’ve captured video evidence of this momentous event?”

“You flatter me.” Tony dipped his head. “And you are correct.”

Tobey looked destroyed by his wife’s betrayal. “Em, no.” 

“Em, yes.” Em smirked.

Tony put his phone in the middle of the table and snapped his fingers. "FRIDAY, pull up the video in my database from the 2007 physicists convention."

A holographic screen projected out of the phone, depicting an image of a ballroom filled with crowded tables. There was a stage set up at the end of the room, with an ornate chandelier dangling just in front of it.

“...next is Peter Tobias Parker.” a voice boomed from the PA system in the video.

“Finally, about time we got someone who speaks science properly.” Tony’s voice emitted from the hologram, sounding like he was holding the camera.

A young man walked up the stairs slowly, and the camera zoomed in, showing it to be what was unmistakably a younger Tobey. 

“What are you wearing? You look like you’re going to a funeral.” Andy laughed, because Hologram-Tobey was dressed head-to-tie in black: shirt, jacket, tie. “I’m a scientist, not a fashionista!” Tobey shot back. “As if you can talk, with that cheesy beanie and fake glasses.”

“They are  _ not _ fake. I have a prescription.” Andy said acidly.

“Guys, be quiet.” Peter hissed. He was watching hologram so attentively that the blue gleam was reflected in his wide eyes.

Hologram-Tobey looked nervous; face pale, hair flattened to his head with sweat, feet slightly knocking into each other unsteadily.

He walked up to the podium with a visible wobble, slowly taking each step like he was trying to calculate an angle that wouldn’t make him tip over. He was a few feet away from the podium when his feet tangled and he tripped - a soft gasp rose from the audience - at the last moment Tobey grabbed the lectern and pulled himself up. 

Hands gripping the sides of the lectern, Tobey went still, staring down at his notes. 

Silence reigned for five, ten, twenty seconds. Then a minute. Some polite coughs rung out from the audience, a subtle prompt for the young scientist to gather his nerves and get on with it.

Hologram-Tobey took a deep breath and looked up. “This is for you.”

He leaped out from the podium, landing in a dramatic pose. finger guns, jabbed them at the audience, and began to Dance. 

No, Dance was too insufficient as a word to describe the enormity of what Tobey was doing. 

The man was swaying, twisting, wriggling, leaping around the stage. Acrobatic slides flowed into voguing which flowed into pirouettes, he punctuated every move with a series of exaggerated hip gyrations. The result was as if Tobey had combined every dance style from the past century into an unholy mishmash. Every now and then he’d randomly burst out with finger guns, jabbing at the audience like he was trying to get them to join in. 

But the room was dead silent, watching as Tobey grooved to a soundtrack that only he could hear. 

The Parkers’ expressions ranged from horror to glee. Tobey made a sound like a dying llama and buried his face in his hands. 

On the screen, confused whispers rose from the audience like the chorus of agitated birds before a thunderstorm:  _ What is he doing? Isn’t that Dr Octavius’s student? Is this part of the entertainment? Should we call security? _

“Oh look, here comes Hank Pym.” Tony pointed as a silver-haired scientist in a bowtie approached Tobey and tried to gently lead him off the stage. Rather than go quietly, Tobey’s reaction was to swing him around and drop him into a swing dance dip.

Tobey looked mortified. “I don’t even remember this part… did I really dance with Dr Pym?” 

“You did.” Tony said brightly. 

Tobey whimpered. “So that’s why he never replies to my emails.”

“Nah, Pym’s just a prick.”

Spinning away from Dr Pym, Hologram-Tobey leapt onto a rolling chair and kicked the ground like a scooter, propelling the chair to go faster and faster. As Hologram-Tobey approached the edge of the stage, he stood up on the seat, arms raised in a I’m-the-king-of-the-world Titanic pose.

At the last minute, Tobey launched himself off the chair, off the stage - gasps and shrieks rang out - using his momentum to fly through the air... arms outstretched, reaching for the low-hanging chandelier.

“I can’t look!” Wade screamed.

“He’s not gonna make it!” Andy yelled.

“He’s gonna make it!” Peter exclaimed.

Against all odds, Hologram-Tobey’s drunken trajectory afforded him just enough momentum to grab onto the chandelier. 

“Ever the physicist, even when drunk.” Tony said cheerfully. “You calculated the right speed and angle for liftoff.” Tobey glared up at Tony, looking very much like he wanted to launch his cider at Tony’s head.

Cackling uncontrollably, Hologram-Tobey began to clamber onto the chandelier, pedalling his legs in midair like a demented cyclist. His erratic movements caused the light fixture to swing around jerkily, the entire structure producing ominous crunches and clouds of ceiling plasterboard with each arc. 

Chandelier crystals fell like hail, pelting terrified audience members as they vacated the swing radius. People were starting to scream and run for the exits.

“You made it, but at what cost?” Em’s eyes were wide.

“My dignity.” Tobey whimpered.

“Oh, tiger. You lost that years ago.” Em had her hands over her mouth, but whether it was to hide laughter or horror, no one could tell.

“Oooh, this is getting good!” Hologram-Tony was revelling in the chaos with unadulterated glee, judging by the laughter shaking camera as he tried his best to keep Tobey in frame. 

Tony laughed evilly, perfectly in sync with his digital counterpart. “The best part is coming right up.”

The camera zoomed into Tobey, and there were mixed gasps and muffled laughs from the table; video Tobey had jet black bangs combed flat over his eyes.

Peter had crumpled into his seat from laughter. “Were you going into the city to see a marching band?” 

“ _ What _ were you thinking?!” Andy was caught between a laugh and a scream.

Tobey peeked up through his fingers, whimpered, and hid his face again. 

“Oh my god.” Em was laughing so hard she had to grab the table for support. “I love you, but that hair was not a good choice.”

Tobey dragged his hands down his face. “It was the 2000s! The emo look was really in.”

They watched in horror (Tobey) and delight (everyone else) as Hologram-Tobey sauntered over to the hotel’s grand piano. He collapsed onto the seat and went completely still, hunching over the keys. 

“Calling it now! He’s gonna puke!” Wade yelled.

“He’s gonna pass out!” Peter shouted.

“Security is gonna tackle him!” May cried.

“Wait for it…” Tony had the biggest grin plastered across his face.

Hologram-Tobey jerked as if struck by electricity, swung his arms wildly... and began bashing out an energetic rendition of  _ Fly Me To The Moon. _

May’s mouth fell open. “I… was not expecting that.”

None of them were. The image of the staid eldest Parker brother drunkenly banging out virtuosic runs and jazz harmonies was so absurd that nobody could think of anything to say.

“You actually sound pretty good.” Em tilted her head to one side like a cat, listening to the tinny music. “Since when did you know how to play the piano?” 

“I have many hidden talents.” Tobey said faintly, trying to salvage whatever coolness points he had left. 

“Evidently. We’re gonna have to explore this some other time.” Em‘s smile became a grimace as a hideous sound cut through the music. 

_ “Fly me to the moon and let me play among the stars, let me see what spring is like on Jupiter and Mars…”  _ Hologram-Tobey yowled in accompaniment to his playing, in a tone that, perhaps with a healthy dose of imagination and a lot of booze, could only be described as shrieking.

Em twitched, torn between sympathy for her husband and professional outrage. “Ooooookay, maybe I should take that back.”

She wasn’t alone: everyone else in the room had their hands clapped to their ears and pained looks on their faces.

Tobey whined. “Come on, I don't think my singing is that bad!”

“That makes one of us.” Peter muttered.

_ “In other wooooooooooords, I love yooooooooou!” _

Then, like a puppet whose strings had been cut, Hologram-Tobey collapsed against the piano keys with a cacophonous  _ CLANG.  _

“Oh no, did he die?” Hologram-Tony asked sardonically. The camera moved forward as Tony approached, but Tobey remained unmoving.

“Sir? Sir! Dr Parker, you need to stop this at once…” one of the hotel managers was power-walking towards the piano that the drunk scientist was limply hanging over.

“Security! Right here, that’s the man who did this!” The manager, now off screen, yelled over the ruckus.

“Hey, buddy, you okay?” Hologram-Tony’s voice took on a concerned tone. His hand appeared on screen, reaching for Tobey’s shoulder to jog him awake.

Just before Hologram-Tony could grab him, Hologram-Tobey came back to life like Frankenstein’s monster, rocking to his feet like a bouncy ball. 

Unfortunately, his drunken calculations were off, and he began falling forward again. Hologram-Tobey twisted in the air, fetching up against the side of the piano. His eyes, huge in his chalk-white and sweaty face, met Tony’s for the first time.

“Tony Stark?” 

“The one and only.” Tony replied without missing a beat. “You seem like you know how to party. Wanna ditch this place and jet to a party? I was thinking Vegas…”

Hologram-Tobey interrupted him, turning around to vomit heavily into the piano lid.

“Looks like someone started pre-gaming early.” Hologram-Tony commented with amusement.

The angry hotel manager came into view again. “Mr Stark! Do you know this man?”

“I’m about to.” Hologram-Tony replied cheerfully.

“This is not a laughing matter. The amount of damage caused is- ” The manager spun around, realising that the troublemaker in question was halfway across the room and escaping through the front doors. “Stop him! After that man!”

The video cut off amidst video-Tony’s hysterical laughter.

Ringing silence fell over the table. 

May still looked like she was trying to process what she had just seen. Wade looked thrilled. Em looked like she was fighting the urge to scream. Peter and Andy looked like all their dreams had come true. 

The silence lingered for three breaths. 

Andy raised a hand, pointed at Tobey, and broke into loud mocking laughs.

That was the cue for laughter to explode throughout the group.

“Oh. My. God.” May rubbed her eyes.

“That made my whole year.” Peter was howling so hard he couldn’t sit up.

“Those moves.” Wade had to cling to Andy’s chair for support. 

Em wiped away tears. “Who’d have thought that swing dance class you took in college was preparing you for this moment.” 

“Someone just end me.” Tobey was so red he looked like a sunburned tomato. “What did I do to deserve this?”

“You did it to yourself, Happy Feet.” Tony shrugged with a grin. 

“I don’t appreciate being compared to a penguin.” 

“Why? You’re as awkward as one.” Andy said.

May leaned between Peter and Andy, an arm slung over each of their shoulders. “I didn't know you had such a wild side, Tobey! And all this time I thought you were the very picture of a model older brother.”

“I was very different when I was younger. And I was going through a very weird period in my life.” Tobey pouted. “ Em and I were on a break, I was burying myself in work, freaking out about money...” 

“Aw, I knew you were having a hard time but I didn’t know it was this bad.“ Em sniggered.

"That's why I don't drink anymore, bad things happen." Tobey said sadly. “I must’ve blacked out after that, because the next moment I’m waking up in my room with a note from the hotel saying I’m banned for life.”

“Oof.” May clicked her tongue. 

“It could’ve been worse.” Tobey rubbed his neck sheepishly. “I’m surprised the hotel didn’t slap me with a huge bill for all the damage.”

“Oh, they did. I paid it off for you.” Tony said.

“What?!” Tobey looked horrified. “But I destroyed their chandelier, threw up in their grand piano, wrecked like a dozen tables…”

“Way more than a dozen. Not to mention trashing their entire stock of red wine, vandalizing three priceless paintings, driving a buggy into a swimming pool... I know, I couldn’t believe it either when I saw the bill.” Tony added with amusement. “I’m still curious how you managed the buggy thing, considering the hotel doesn’t have any swimming pools and the nearest pool is several miles away.”

Tobey made a pained groan, sliding down in his chair like he wanted to disappear into the floor.

“They were about to call security and the cops on you, but I managed to talk them out of it.” Tony explained. “Convinced them to not press any charges as well.”

“You didn’t need to do all that.” Tobey looked on the verge of melting into a puddle of shame. “How much was it? I’ll pay you back.” 

“Relax. Consider it payment for an unforgettable evening.” Tony said easily.

“What?!” Tobey now looked horrified in addition to embarrassed. “I can’t make you pay for my mistake!” 

“It’s fine, don’t worry about it.” Tony patted him on the shoulder. “I’m really good at cleaning up other peoples’ messes. At least this one was really funny.” Tobey was still giving him that guiltily unhappy look, and evident how he too had Peter’s tendency to lapse into puppydog eyes when upset.

“Are you sure there’s no way we can thank you?” Em asked with a touch of concern. 

Tony shook his head with a smile. Money was always a touchy subject, more so when one was a billionaire. “It really is fine. Getting everyone to laugh tonight was priceless.” 

Em’s eyes glowed with gratitude. “For what it’s worth, I have to thank you for cleaning up his mess.” 

“I’m sorry.” Tobey whispered, still a sad puddle of a man. Em shook her head with a I-can’t-believe-what-just-happened smile, before pinching Tobey’s cheeks in mock-punishment.

Andy waved his hand to get their attention. “Can I have a copy of that video, Tony?”

Tobey yelped. “No!” 

Tony nodded to his phone. “Send it over, Friday.”

“All done, boss.”

Andy grinned. “Yes! Those emo bangs will make a great filter for Webshootr’s next patch update.”

“I took a video of him dancing earlier.” Peter leaned over to show everyone his phone, where he had taken a surreptitious video of Tobey’s post-game victory dance. “You can compare it to his current moves.”

“Wow, he dances exactly the same now as he did back then.” May scrutinised the screen with a huge grin. “You need to learn some new moves, Tobey.”

“Your legacy as Lord of the Dance will never be forgotten by the scientific community.” Tony intoned. “I think they show this video as a cautionary tale to all new PhD candidates.”

“You’re never gonna let me live this down are you?” Tobey asked in a small voice.

“Nope.” Everyone said together. Tobey whimpered, and buried his face in his wife’s neck. Em patted him on the head with a ‘you tried’ smile.

As the laughter at Tobey’s escapades began to die off, May called their attention back to more important things.

“You know, I think all that laughing has burned off space for dessert.” May said, which earned cheers and chants of ‘cake, cake, cake’ from the table. May and Tony headed to the kitchen and returned with an armload of dishes.

Peter’s eyes widened as the desserts were placed on the table. There was a mixture of homemade and store bought dishes: a luscious chocolate lava cake, glistening strawberry tart, creamy pumpkin pie, a dish of buttery creme brulee, and a neat square of tiramisu dusted with cocoa powder. 

They set about distributing the desserts and very soon everyone’s plate resembled a treasure chest of colourful desserts.

The chatter slowed as everyone turned their full attention to savoring their dessert, and it wasn’t long before people were going back for seconds, thirds, and fourths.

Every bite brought a burst of flavour, each a different galaxy of taste; the warm chocolate cake oozed with dark chocolate lava which was perfectly thick and molten; the flaky pastry and layer fluffy cream were the perfect base for strawberries glimmering in sugar syrup; dense and creamy pumpkin pie with its lightly salted crust; the creme brulee (which they’d all pestered Tony into caramelizing the top with his watch repulsor) was cool and smooth as smoky sugar crystals crunched behind his teeth…

“ _ So good.  _ I love chocolate. Someone make me a chocolate house.” Andy groaned, sounding like he was in heaven. Wade smiled fondly at his blissful expression, and without hesitation pushed his chocolate cake onto Andy’s plate.

“No! You haven’t even tried it yet!” Andy protested. 

“It’s for you, baby boy.”

“Not until you try some!” Eyes filled with determination (or perhaps a pending sugar high) Andy scooped a spoonful of chocolate into Wade’s mouth. 

Wade’s eyes went starry. “It's molten!”

“Told you!”

Wade fluttered his eyelashes up at him. “Feed me more?”

“You’re impossible.” Andy scoffed but he gently brushed a thumb over Wade’s lip to catch a smudge of chocolate.

“The cake’s pretty good, huh?” Tony said cheerfully. “I got the recommendation from Happy. He’s got a cousin runs a restaurant and he recently opened up a branch in New York. El Jefe, you heard of it?”

“Didn’t that used to be a food truck?” May asked. 

“They did, and their cubanos are amazing. You ever had a cubano, Pete?” Tony asked, and Peter’s shaken head, said resolutely. “I’ll bring you next time, after the next missio-” Tony quickly caught himself. “After the next finish lab project.”

Peter nodded happily and took a bite of the next dessert on his plate, which happened to be the tiramisu.

Sweet cream, fluffy as a cloud, melded into the gentle crunch of savoiardi cake, all rounded off by the bitterness of coffee. Peter blinked, feeling like he had entered a new dimension of sugar-filled reality. 

_ This is… REALLY delicious. _

“You okay? For a second you looked like the critic guy from Ratatouille.” Wade asked, looking over at him with some concern.

“This is so good.” Peter took another bite, and it was just as good as the first. He felt his eyes glazing over with a happy sugar daydream. “Where did you get this from, Mr Stark?”

Tony’s smile warmed as he watched Peter happily wolfing down the dessert. “I made it.”

Peter almost dropped his fork. “You made this?!”

“I used to make these with my mom.” Tony explained, a wistful look in his eyes. “She didn’t cook a lot, but when she did we’d make this together. Brings back lots of good memories.”

“Whoa…” Peter stared at Mr Stark with amazement. “So this is a Stark family recipe you made for us?”

Tony blinked, and let out a bright peal of laughter. “I guess it is! How about that?” His face lit up, for a moment he seemed less weighed down by his regular pensiveness. 

“I love when food has a story behind it.” Wade had his chin cupped in his hands.

“Thanks for sharing your this with us.” Em said, taking a happy bite of the food.

“Then it’s all agreed; we’re all family now.” May nodded. “No takebacks.” 

“The pact is sealed.” Andy added neatly.

Tobey was the only one who hadn’t joined the family love-in. He looked at the tiramisu like it was about to spit fire, before asking in a small voice. “Is there… any alcohol in this?” 

“Don’t worry, this is the kid-friendly version. No booze, just vanilla extract.” Tony said patiently. Of course he wouldn’t have been that irresponsible to allow underage drinking. Not only was it illegal, but Tony had no idea about the effects of alcohol on a small-sized powered teen, super metabolism or no, and he wasn’t keen on finding out. God forbid he end up chasing an inebriated Spider-Man around the city.

“You don’t have to treat me like I'm gonna explode just from coming into contact with alcohol.” Peter muttered. “We do handle ethanol in chemistry, you know.”

“I was more worried about Tobey, to be honest. Judging from that video, I don’t think this apartment could handle one of his benders.” Andy said, earning a glare from Tobey.

\--

Em paused, mouth forming an ‘O’ of sudden realization. “Now that I’ve seen Tony’s video, it makes sense why you both were acting weird around each other earlier.”

“Did I really come across that sketchy?” Tobey asked with a wince.

“It makes sense  _ now,  _ but…” Em brightened and gestured to him and Tobey. “For a while I thought you two were having a Satan’s Alley moment.”

Tony and Tobey both choked. Unwillingly, their eyes locked, and they saw each other simultaneously come to the same horrible conclusion.

May burst out laughing. “Now that you mention it, I can see the resemblance, too!”

“Oh god. Oh god oh god oh god…” Andy looked like he wanted to throw up and buried his face in Wade’s shoulder. Wade kissed him on the head comfortingly.

“What’s Satan’s Alley?” Peter asked.

“It’s… a film.” Andy said with visible difficulty.

Tony let out a pained laugh. “Yeah. You could call it that.”

“It’s one of my favourites!” Wade hummed.

“Is it any good? Can I watch it?”

“ _ NO! _ ” Everyone yelled in unison, so emphatically that Peter half jumped out of his seat. 

“Firstly, Peter, that film is rated a hard R.” May wasn’t even trying to hide her huge grin.

Peter huffed. The challenges of being chronologically challenged. “At least tell me what it’s about!”

Wade put on his best raspy movie- trailer voice. “In a world, where love is forbidden… two monks need to make a confession… to each other.”

Peter shrugged. “That’s it? I thought it was gonna be something really weird…” His voice died away as Andy held up his phone with the search results for the movie poster. 

The poster showed a bleak landscape, where two shadowy figures were standing by a small monastery. In true cliche movie poster style, floating heads of the actors were overlaid on the sky, smouldering eyes glaring out of the image. 

One of the leads looked eerily similar to Tobey. And the other… was a dead ringer for Mr Stark.

Peter’s jaw dropped. “That... they…”

“I know. Horrifying.” Andy nodded sympathetically. “Yes, they play the aforementioned horny monks. Yes, they have several explicit, full-frontal sex scenes together. Yes, they were gunning real hard for an Oscar.” 

Peter made a sound like a machine that was painfully running out of steam. May patted him on the head. “There, there. The pain will pass.”

“They do  _ not _ look anything like us _.” _ Tobey said wearily. “Stop telling people that I look like the Seabiscuit guy.”

“Have you checked a mirror lately?” Em kept looking from Tobey to Tony. “I can’t get over the resemblance. It’s uncanny!”

“What is this, ‘Make Fun of Tobey Day?’” Tobey asked with a hint of petulance.

“No, silly, that’s every day.” Peter chirped.

“Are you seriously comparing me to Kirk Lazarus? That blond idiot is an insufferable diva!” Tony said indignantly.

“Takes one to know one.” Andy piped up. Tony stuck his tongue out at him. 

“It’s an amazing film, though. Too bad they were snubbed at the awards.” Em chimed in.

“I know right!” Wade nigh-squealed with the glee only a devoted fanboy could muster. “They totes-magotes should have won instead of that Vietnam war film…”

Peter poked his eldest brother in the shoulder. “I want you to know that I don’t see you any differently even after discovering your super secret dance skills.”

Tobey ignored him with a huff as he sliced off the corner of his pumpkin pie. 

“You know,” Andy said loudly. “Speaking of secrets, I think it’s Peter’s turn to share.”

“Huh?” 

“You know exactly what I’m talking about.” Andy sounded supremely proud of himself as he leaned back in his chair, arms folded. “When you left to buy cranberry sauce, you were gone almost two hours. Well, I know where you went, and it most definitely  _ wasn’t _ to buy cranberry sauce.”

“So?”

“I know your secret~” Andy sing-songed. 

_ Shit. I hoped he’d forgotten about that. _ Peter tried to look nonchalant, but he couldn’t help the cold shiver running down his spine.

“What secret?” May asked interestedly.

“Sounds like there’s a fun story behind this.” Em eagerly sat up straighter. “Story! Story!”

Peter’s fork felt sweaty in his white-knuckled grip. “W-what are you talking about? You guys are being weird.”

“Give it up, Pete. I know everything.”

“Everything?” Peter was pretty sure his face was red enough to be seen from space. “What’s… there... to know?”

Andy snorted. “Wow. You’re a really bad liar.” 

“I’ve never lied a day in my life.”

“Tell that to the red velvet cupcake that I was saving for three days before it mysteriously vanished.” Andy muttered.

Peter flushed. “That was five years ago!”

“And yet still the pain lingers.” Andy said with a pained expression. 

“Pete, I didn’t know you liked red velvet cupcakes too!” Tony interjected, a last ditch attempt to divert the conversation.

But Andy was like a hound on the scent, unwilling let the matter slip. “I mean, it’s so obvious from all the sneaking around you’ve been doing.” Andy twirled his spoon lazily. “Face it, bro: you’ve been busted.”

“What’s Andy talking about, Peter?” May asked.

“Andy’s talking shit as usual.” Peter grumbled, shoving a piece of tart into his mouth to try and distract people.

“Is he?” Em commented. “You’re being awfully defensive.”

“I’m not!” Peter exclaimed.

“You kinda are.” Wade chimed in. “You’re being as defensive as-”

“For the last time, I’m not hiding anything!” Peter exclaimed.

“Hah! How does it feel?” Tobey was clearly overjoyed at not being the butt of a joke. He pointed at his brother with a vindicated smirk. “You and I are not so different.” 

“I’m not like you!” Peter yelled back. “You’re a doofus!”

“Well, each to his own...”

“Fine. If Peter isn’t gonna fess up, I’ll do it for him.” Andy said loudly.

_ He couldn’t really have discovered I’m Spider-Man, could he?  _

Peter’s shirt had stuck to his back with sweat. Unbidden, Tony’s words from earlier came back to haunt him.  _ “You’re gonna have to tell them sooner or later.” _

_ Yeah, but I didn’t think it’d mean today! _ Peter’s heart felt like his heart was thumping loud enough to bounce out of his chest. Everything was happening too fast and too suddenly. He wasn’t quite sure if he felt comfortable with so many people knowing his identity… 

_ But this is Andy we’re talking about. _ Peter tried to think logically and not catastrophize a super ultra terribad outcome. For all his second brother could be snarky and acerbic, he’d never do anything to intentionally harm Peter. And Tobey had been a pillar of reliability through the years, helping cover for him a few times in school. Even Wade and Em - both of whom had been part of the family so long that it was difficult to picture a time before them - something in his gut told him that they would be accepting. 

That they all would accept his being Spider-Man.

May though… Peter bit his lip. He couldn’t picture any outcome where she wouldn’t be furious or worried to death. 

Would she even let him be Spider-Man anymore?

Peter darted a panicked glance at Tony - the man returned his gaze steadily, gave a nod and a barely perceptible smile. That made him feel a little better; knowing that no matter what the fallout, Mr Stark would be in his corner.

Perhaps… this might not go as bad as he thought? 

Peter narrowed his eyes at his smirking brother across the table. “I have nothing to hide. Do your worst, bro.”

“Oh, I will.” Andy’s eyes gleamed. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WHAT THE F-


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> MERRY CRISIS EVERYONE

So this was what it all came down to. 

Dread it, run from it, destiny arrives all the same. Yet what can we do, what can anyone do but meet their fate head-on when it arrives?

Still, Peter never expected his destiny to take the form of his way-too-smug older brother. “I have nothing to hide.” Peter said flatly at his smirking brother. “Do your worst, bro.”

“Oh, I will.” Andy grinned and edged his chair closer to the table. “Listen up, everyone, what I’m about to say is gonna knock your socks off.”

“How many surprises are we gonna have tonight?” Em commented with a curious look. “So lively, my heart can’t take all these plot twists.”

“I know right? You’d think learning about Tobey’s embarrassing past was enough drama for a night, and now there’s more stuff to popcorn!” Wade was all but quivering with excitement.

Tobey shot Wade a venomous glare at that comment, before turning around to continue egging his brother on. “Right. Peter’s definitely got a more interesting life than I do.”

“Interesting doesn’t even begin to describe it.” Andy sang, twirling his fork between nimble fingers.

“Do you even have anything?” Peter snapped. He wished Andy would just get it over with already instead of drawing out the suspense with unalloyed glee. “You act like you’re so wise and street smart, but the only cool thing about you is your hair!”

“Ouch.” May tsked. “He’s got you there.”

Wade pouted. “His hair is beautiful.”

Peter ignored him in favour of continuing to rant at his amused brother. “You wouldn’t know the first thing about having a social life.” 

“Yeah?” Andy flipped his fork and caught it one hand. “So who’s MJ?”

Peter sputtered to a halt. Mind blanking with shock. 

“MJ?” May blinked at the name, realization spreading over her face. “Isn’t she that girl from your class?”

Andy sing-songed. “My little brother has a cruuuush!”

“Ooooooh….” Em, Tobey, and Wade chorused like mean highschool students. May whistled. Tony grinned, trying to not look too relieved.

Peter couldn’t believe this was how he was going to die. It was like being sent on an interstellar mission from which there was definitely no return and almost definitely certain death, but bravely forging ahead anyway, only to find out the water planet you had been preparing to terraform was in fact a lava planet and in no way inhabitable. 

Fuck. He was so screwed.

Tony waved a hand in front of his eyes. “Earth to Pete, you in there?”

Struggling to recover from the mental whiplash of having to scramble a completely different defense strategy, Peter rallied enough to sputter out. “She's a friend from school!”

“This friend is in 90% of your pics.” Andy scrolled lazily through Peter's Webshootr account. “Classroom snaps, field trips, parties… you guys sure love hanging out together. Like a lot.”

“We're both on the Decathlon team! Everyone sees each other like every week!” Peter shouted. 

“You this friendly with all your other decathlon friends?” May leaned on Andy’s shoulder to get a closer look at the current photo: Peter and MJ sitting next to each other in the Acadec club room. MJ was standing up to speak and Peter’s gaze was fixed on her with a look that could only be described as besotted.

“Friendly enough to hang out with each other outside school.” Andy said knowingly. “In the last month you guys have met up almost every day.  _ Outside _ of school hours.”

“What?!” Peter sputtered. “How do you even come up with that?”

“Easy; I set up an alert to tell me when both you guys are in proximity. It’s part of my ‘Get my Little Bro A Date’ protocol.” Andy said proudly. “While you were supposedly out buying cranberry sauce, this handy dandy tool notified me that you had in fact snuck off to see MJ.” He chuckled and shook his head. “Honestly, Pete, you could’ve just invited her over instead of going to all that trouble. We had plenty of food, one more person would’ve been welcome.”

“That’s a complete violation of my privacy! Stop stalking me!” Peter leaped at Andy, trying to snatch the phone away.

“If you care about privacy, get off the internet!” Andy dodged Peter’s grabby hands and tossed the phone to Tobey. 

“Let's see what's on her feed.” Tobey caught the phone like they were playing touch-football and quirked an eyebrow. “Wow. She seems to enjoy taking photos of you, Pete. You’re like her muse.”

“Let me see!” Em held the phone up to her eyes, eagerly scrolling through the stream of photos. “Hah! I like this girl’s sense of humor.”

“Give that back!” Peter snarled. He stopped himself just before tackling his sister-in-law, but that split second of hesitation was all the time Wade needed to pluck the phone out of her hand.

“Conspiracy theories. Historical sites of famous executions. Death. Good taste.” Wade nodded, taking advantage of his height and longer arms to hold the phone out of Peter’s reach. “Ooh, and so many pictures of Peter!” 

“Aww, look at that picture of Peter falling asleep in the cafeteria with his mouth open!” May cooed. “Who wouldn’t love that face?”

“Can we go back to making fun of Tobey?” Peter asked desperately. 

“Nope! Family gathering means everyone gets their fair share of humiliation.” Tobey had recovered his happy-go-lucky aura now that he was no longer the target of teasing.

“Making fun of you was the reason I was put on this earth.” Andy said with sage older brother wisdom.

“You guys suck.” Sulking, Peter folded his arms and threw himself back into his chair with a huff. It struck him as blatantly unfair how everyone seemed to be making fun of him even more than they had Tobey. Being the baby of the family really sucked sometimes.

“We’re just trying to help.” Em said. “If you don’t ask her out, these chances will just pass you by.”

“Unless-“ Tobey’s eyes lit up. “You’d like us to help ask her  _ for  _ you…?”

“Oh god no! Anything but that!” Peter wailed. The mere prospect of  _ that _ was nothing short of nightmarish. 

While he was relieved that he wouldn’t need to have the Spider-Man conversation today after all, he’d rather be hit by a runaway train than discuss his romantic life with his family. Especially when said family contained two older brothers who were intent on ribbing him at every opportunity they got.

“Why not? She seems like a nice girl, you should invite her over sometime!” May said happily. “I could make some walnut and date loaf for her!”

“That’d be a true test of her bravery.” Andy muttered under his breath, before saying out loud. “This MJ seems just as weird as you, Pete, so you won’t have to worry about her running away at the sight of the Star Wars shrine in your room.”

Em’s eyes lit up. “When are you gonna make a move?” 

“I don’t know.” Peter wilted, head drooping onto the table. He knew he was a pitiful sight but his pride was in tatters anyway. “It’s hopeless. She’s never given any signs she can even stand me, let alone likes me.” 

“Try us.” Tony challenged. Everyone else settled down, drinks in hand, ready to listen to Peter spill the beans.

Peter pulled a face, thinking back to their encounters over the past year. “She always pops up when I’m least expecting it and makes weird comments.” 

“How weird are we talking?” Tobey asked.

Peter shrugged helplessly. “I don’t know, weird! She keeps telling me I look funny, or asking me if I agree that proms are stupid and that we should do something else...”

Tobey took his brother by the shoulders and gave him a small shake. “Peter. I love you but god, your brain is in a different galaxy.”

“I just don’t get it.” Peter continued sadly. “Whenever we go on field trips she starts telling me all these random facts; like creepy conspiracy theories, or how many hundreds of people died at whichever national monument we’re currently at…” 

Em muffled a laugh with one hand. “Aww, you’re both so sweet. It’s almost cute how oblivious the both of you are.

“And she keeps drawing weird unflattering sketches of me and leaving them at my desk…” Peter continued.

Tony rubbed his forehead. “Uh, kid…”

Peter chewed his lip, looking at the table worriedly. “Do you really think she means anything with all that?”

“ _ YES. _ ” The entire group nigh shouted.

“Are all Parkers this oblivious?” Tony said exasperatedly.

Em and Wade nodded in sync, with the camaraderie of hardened veterans.

“It took Tobey years to figure it out.” Em said grimly.

“Baby boy and I might as well have been from different universes.” Wade clinked his glass with hers.

May raised her cider wisely. “This is the third time I’ve had to see this. They’re all hopeless.”

Peter glared, but it came out looking more like tiny pomeranian pouting. “Well, if you’re all so smart, what do you suggest I do?”

That seemed to be the cue for everyone to jump in with advice like the band of overly-helpful family members they were.

“When it comes to dating, the first thing you gotta know is-” Tobey began.

“Don’t listen to the man who took  _ years _ to gather up the guts to ask his wife out!” Andy snorted. “Nah, Pete, listen to me if you want tips on how to have fun on a date. First step is-”

“Excuse me, but which of us is happily married?” Tobey frowned at the interruption. “When are you both gonna get a move and put a ring on it?”

Andy made a strangled sort of growl, Tobey having clearly hit on a sore subject for him. “Mind your own business! This is about helping Peter so he doesn’t waste his highschool years languishing in losertown!”

“Thanks for that.” Peter muttered.

Feeling a bit sorry for his protege, Tony stepped in to rescue him. “Speaking as a retired casanova, my instincts tell me you don't have too much to worry about. I think it’s pretty clear she likes you back.” 

Peter wrinkled his nose. “I dunno. It’s complicated.”

_ Ah, this kid is just too cute. _ Tony shook his head, suppressing the urge to break into a huge grin. “That’s the overthinking talking. You guys just need to find common ground and then you’re gold.”

Peter’s brow creased. “Common ground? Like what?” 

Wade sat up eagerly, clearly thrilled that the subject had moved to his area of expertise. “Physical activities are the best way for couples to bond with each other. For instance-”

A scandalized Andy quickly shoved his hand over his boyfriend’s mouth. “Wade, no! They’re kids!”

“Mmmph! I wasn’t gonna say that!” Wade protested, fighting to be heard past the smothering hand. “I meant physical like doing sports together! Swordfighting or bubble soccer or base jumping or putting balls in holes-” Wade squeaked and quickly backpedalled at the icy glare his boyfriend shot at him. “You know, those arcade games where you have to throw balls into a hole to score points so you can win the biggest teddy bear for your boo!”

Andy shut his eyes with the air of man whose patience had been strained to the utmost limit. 

“To add to what Tony said, you guys should find a common interest, that’s a good start.” Em suggested reasonably. “Seeing each other at the Acadec club meetings is good and all, but that can’t be all you guys talk about when you hang out together outside of school. What kind of hobbies do you both have?”

“Uhh…” Peter hesitated.

“You always have the best ideas, Em!” Tobey said happily. “Tell us, Pete!”

“Cosplay? Mixology?” Wade threw out the suggestions. “Deejaying? Underwater basket weaving?”

Peter racked his brain. Why was it suddenly so difficult to recall anything about MJ? For somebody he saw almost every day, he realised how remarkably secretive she was. “She likes… government conspiracy theories, historical cold cases, true crime, haunted monuments, drawing…”

“How about Spider-Man?” Andy said casually.

_ Oh god, now what? _ Peter thought. 

“What about Spider-Man?” Tony’s smile froze on his face, a note of wariness in his voice.

The smug smirk spread over Andy’s face once again, like he was the anti-hero from the latest popular Young Adult novel-turned-movie-franchise. 

Peter’s dread surged once again.

“I don’t know if you guys noticed, but this MJ seems to be a huuuuge Spidey fan. Look at the type of content she likes.” Andy pointed to the screen, opening the tab showing MJ’s recent Likes. “Spider-Man photo, Spider-Man photo, Avengers meme, Spider-Man meme, news article about superheroes, Spider-Man meme, thinkpiece about New York superheroes ‘Are they causing more problems than they solve?’, Spider-Man photo, Spider-Man photo...”

May continued scrolling through MJ’s timeline. “Wow, talk about a superfan. She talks about superheroes on her page almost every day. And by that I mean all of it is Spidey.” 

“Really?” Peter blinked in puzzlement. Most of the kids at his school tended to idolize the flashier (and buffer) Avengers, like Iron Man or Thor. The only person he’d ever heard say a positive word about Spider-Man was  _ Flash _ and given how shittily he treated Peter, he didn’t quite think that counted.

“Don’t you think it’d make her day if she had the chance to meet Spider-Man in person?” Tony couldn’t resist adding, grinning at the furious glare Peter cast at him.

“Maybe. I guess. But it’ll never happen.” Peter folded his arms tersely. “Because Spider-Man is always busy doing Avengers stuff.”

Tony’s eyes widened, full of faux-concern. “Is that what you’re worried about? Don’t sweat it, I can give Spider-Man some extra time off. He works too hard anyway.”

“I don’t-” Peter gritted his teeth so hard his jaw squeaked. “Spider-Man doesn’t work for you.”

Tony was having way too much fun needling at him. “After all, it’s part of his code to help the good people of New York. Doing something nice for one of his biggest fans is all in a day's work for him.”

Peter found himself wildly hoping there was another crisis happening on the other side of the city that he could excuse himself to go and take care of. Heck, he’d rather take on ten Vultures than have to sit through this conversation.

“I hate to brag, but you’re really lucky I’m here.” Andy raised his chin proudly. “You’re talking to one of the experts in the newly-founded but endlessly-fascinating field of Spidey-watching.” 

Peter turned to face him with an unimpressed look. “What would you know?” 

“Far more than you think, little brother.” Andy puffed out his chest. “As a matter of fact, I happen to be a platinum member and moderator of the official Spider-Man Watchers Group...”

“The what?” Peter choked on air, almost toppling out of his seat.

“The Spider-Man Watchers Group. Haven’t you heard of it?” Andy stared incredulously at Peter’s blank (from horror) expression. “It’s only the biggest online community for Spidey fans.”

“A community? For Sp- for Spider-Man… watchers…?” Peter squeaked.

“That’s what I said! It’s an extremely active group, people are constantly posting to talk about sightings.” Andy continued listing out the features of his internet group. “And that’s not all, they also share photos, memorable encounters, thank you notes, theories, fanart, thinkpieces, places to leave supplies in case Spidey needs help, best locations to spot him...”

“That makes him sound like a whale shark.” Tobey commented. 

May laughed. “If a whale shark was red and blue with webby patterns.”

Tony rubbed his chin, having zeroed in on the last thing in Andy’s sales pitch. “Hang on, you said people like to leave supplies out for Spidey?”

“Yeah! People really admire him and want to support him, so they try and leave stuff on rooftops like snacks or basic first aid kits.” Andy beamed, showing them his phone screen which was on the group’s home page. 

Tony’s brow furrowed, having surprisingly (or perhaps unsurprisingly) had gone into helicopter parent mode. “Those care packages could easily be sabotaged. We don’t even know what those gifts could be or where they came from.”

“The internet’s gonna internet.” Andy admitted understandingly. “But I get why you’re worried, that’s why we try to encourage people to leave simple stuff like notes and sealed snacks.”

Tony didn’t look appeased in the slightest. “Hm.” 

“So far everyone’s been pretty honest, but we make sure every new member is vetted and screened before they’re allowed to join. Mainly to filter out trolls, haters, and bots. If anyone tried something shady… we’d know.” Andy’s eyes held a determined glint. “They mess with one of us, they mess with all of us.”

“That’s good to know.” Tony said, though privately he was already thinking of more ways to boost Spidey’s arsenal.

Andy continued. “The trouble is, it’s difficult to know where Spidey is gonna be one day to the next, so a bunch of people decided to get together and pool their knowledge.”

“A pool of spidey knowledge. A spidey-pool.” Wade added with an awed whisper.

“Exactly.”

“There’s a Spider-Man Watchers Group.” Peter repeated dully. 

“How many members are in that community?” Em asked.

“As of now, we’re a couple thousand strong but growing fast every day. He’s  _ really _ popular. And the best part is there’s surprisingly little drama for such a big community, everyone’s super nice!”

“Thousands of Spider-Man watchers…” Peter whispered dazedly. His eyes were a million miles away.

“That’s not surprising. Who wouldn’t like Spidey?” Tony said, as if the opposite was unthinkable.

“Spider-Man is so cool. So honorable. So noble. Upright.” Wade sighed with starry-eyed wonder. “I didn’t get the hype at first, but now I’m a true believer.”

“There’s a Spider-Man Watchers Group,” Peter whispered, staring blankly into the distance, looking for all the world like his life was crumbling around his ears. “A watcher’s group for Spider-Man. A group specifically created to watch Spider-Man’s every move. Watching for Spider-Man. Spider-Man’s watchers.”

“Yup, they are always on the lookout twenty four hours a day, three hundred and sixty five days a…” 

“They’re everywhere. Watching.” Peter whispered, face frozen into a look of such piteous horror that Tony almost would’ve felt sorry for him if the whole situation wasn’t so goddamn funny.

“Hey, why isn't there an Iron Man watchers group?” Tony asked, putting in his trademark arrogant media persona in an attempt to take some of the heat off Peter.

Tobey stared at him incredulously. “You’re already in the regular news every day! What more do you want?”

“Hey, more publicity couldn’t hurt-“

Andy’s eyes lit up as a notification popped up on his phone. “Well, well, well. What do you know? It seems there was a Spidey sighting just a few hours ago!”

“Oooh, where?” May asked excitedly. 

“It looks like Spider-Man was rescuing people from a fire earlier this night. He was trending while we were preparing dinner.” Andy scanned his phone excitedly, leaning over to nudge Peter with his elbow. “I bet your MJ would have loved to see Spidey in action. It’s too bad you both didn’t get a chance to be there. ”

Peter broke into a pained grin. “Yeah… it’s too bad...” 

“Whoa, check out these photos someone took. People sure move fast.” Andy refreshed the page so the latest update was visible: a photo of Spider-Man posing upside down, holding up a pair of bunny ears, dramatically backlit by the streetlights and faint orange glow from the fire. It had only been posted mere seconds ago, but it had already been shared thousands of times, and with Likes in the tens of thousands. 

And climbing fast. Peter gulped.

“Wow, that’s a great shot. Very artistic.” Tobey said approvingly, his photographer’s eye analyzing every detail of the composition. “Wish I could’ve been there, too.”

“I know right? It’s always so awe-inspiring to see Spidey doing his stuff.” Em said.

“It really is.” Wade said, an inexplicably proud look in his eyes.

“How do you know this is a real photo?” Tony inquired. “It’s easy for anyone to manipulate images.”

“Normally I’d agree with you and call fake.” Andy waved his phone, excitement filling his voice. “But this photo was posted by one of the mods,  _ blackdahlia01.”  _

“Am I supposed to know who that is?” Tony asked.

Andy continued to explain. “Well,  _ blackdahlia01 _ is kind of a big name in the community. Their shots of Spidey are always beautifully composited and they post almost every day. Not just that, they always seem to know where Spidey is going to be, like they have a homing beacon on him or something...”

Ears burning, Peter stared at the photo, hoping he didn’t look as guilty as he felt. This _blackdahlia01_ person must’ve been in the crowd of bystanders who’d been watching him carry out the fire rescue. His mind raced, trying to recall the faces of anyone who’d been on the scene. 

It was no good; his memory was all a blur. Too much had been going on at the time, and he’d been distracted between taking care of the fire and trying to not look like an idiot in front of MJ.

_ Cameras everywhere, is there nowhere safe now?  _ PETER thought in despair. How could a group that was intended to admire Spidey only make him feel more like a prey animal in a hunter’s crosshairs?

“If you want to join the Spidey Watchers Group, I can get you in easily because I’m a mod. Normally we have to vet people, but I know you guys aren’t creeps so that’s no problem.” Andy was saying with all the fervour of a geek at a comics convention. “Just add me as a friend, my handle is  _ sk8boarder.”  _

Tony burst out with a laugh. “The 2000s called, they want that name back.”

“Whatever, I was like a teen when I made that account.” Andy shrugged. 

“Wait. You’re  _ sk8boarder?”  _ Tobey’s eyes widened as he stared at Andy’s profile. “No way! Bro, I’m in that group too! My handle is  _ pizzatime.”  _

“Are you serious?” Andy stared at his brother in amazement. “You’re  _ pizzatime? _ As in my fellow mod?”

Tobey threaded his hands through his hair, overcome by the hilarious serendipity of it all. “We’ve been working together all this time and never knew.” 

“Talk about identity porn, right?” Andy laughed.

"Who knew we were all a bunch of superhero stalkers?" Em chimed in, amused at the coincidence. "I joined the group but haven’t really been too active. You can add me, I’m _moondancer.”_   


Wade bounced eagerly. “Mine is  _ reynoldryans _ . I just joined the group today!”

“Added.” Andy nodded as he hit the requisite buttons. He reached over to tap his brother on the shoulder. “Wanna join too, Pete?”

Peter flinched minutely. “N-no thanks…”

“Why? Are you already a member? Trying to keep your identity a secret?” Andy said jokingly.

Peter made a strangled sound, face turning a series of interesting colors, and stared helplessly at Tony, who was doing a truly atrocious job of concealing his amusement.

“I… I’m trying to limit my internet time. Focus on my studies…” Peter croaked, throwing out the pathetic excuse.

“Right! School, very important.” Tony chimed in supportively.

“That’s very responsible of you, Pete.” May nodded, before turning to Andy, face shining with excitement. “I’m not in school though, can I join, too? This sounds like a fun group to hang out in.” 

“MAY!” Peter couldn’t quite hide his yelp. “Why?”

May pouted, clearly interpreting his words a different way. “Why not? People over the age of forty can use the internet as well.” 

“Yeah, don’t be so ageist, Pete.” Tony quipped.

“It’s not- I didn’t-” Peter stuttered out, watching in dismay as Andy swiftly created a new account for their aunt. 

Great. Another set of eyes watching him.

Andy then turned to Tony. “How about you? Iron Man works with Spidey pretty often, it’d be so sick if you joined the group! I’m sure you’ve got lots of interesting stories.” 

Tony shook his head with the same amused smile. “Thanks, but I’m gonna have to decline. Can’t reveal too much about individual Avengers; classified information and all that.”

“Oh, right. Yeah, I understand.”

“I will say, though, that Spider-Man is an exceptional teammate.” Tony’s eyes twinkled. “Creative, smart, and always looking out for the little guy. That’s the most important part. Last week we were on a mission together, and you’ll never believe what he did…”

Peter squirmed in his seat. Never had he experienced such a complicated mix of feelings. He stared wide-eyed as Tony continued to praise Spider-Man and describe the long list of his achievements in glowing terms, like he was a proud dad at the PTA. Around him, everyone oohed and aahed at all the right moments.

_ They actually… are proud of Spider-Man. Of me. _ The thought made Peter’s heart twinge.

Half of him wanted to glow with pride because the insecure part of him yearned to revel in the sweet, sweet validation; the other half of him wanted to curl up and scream.

“...could have left the guy to die, but he saved him without questioning it. Because that’s what heroes do.” Tony’s recitation came to an end. “All in all, you couldn’t ask for a better Avenger on the team.”

Andy was watching his phone because, of course, he had recorded the whole thing. “Can I post that soundbite?”

“Of course! More people ought to know the truth about our friendly neighbourhood webhead.” Tony grinned, throwing a glance at Peter, who looked even more flustered.

This whole night seemed to be one stressful situation after another, and Peter wasn’t sure how much more he could take before his brain exploded. He glumly took another sip of his cider, sulking as compliments and jibes alike swirled around him like a blizzard.

Who knew that being praised and supported could turn out to be too much of a good thing?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Peter is all ;w;


End file.
